


Mad Idiot

by RueRambunctious



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Belts, Blood, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottom Jim Moriarty, Caning, Choking, Dammit Jim, Death Threats, Drowning, Gun Violence, Hair-pulling, Jim is a Little Shit, M/M, Moriarty Is A Dick, Possessive Moriarty, Power Bottom Moriarty, Sebastian Moran likes kissing dammit, Smut, Snark, Spanking, Swearing, Switch Sebastian Moran, Switching, Teasing, Top Jim Moriarty, Top Sebastian, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unusual Punishments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueRambunctious/pseuds/RueRambunctious
Summary: Moriarty's recklessness makes Sebastian's job difficult, and the blond eventually loses his temper with his mad employer.Luckily Moriarty likes it, although he doesn't make things easy.





	1. Chapter 1

What the fuck? Sebastian watches in horror as his reckless criminal 'genius' prances into blatant danger and it's all Sebastian can do to move swiftly in a pathetic attempt to keep Moriarty shielded.

Sebastian tries to warn the brunet with his eyes, but the idiot just smirks and taunts their _fucking dangerous_ enemies.

Sebastian isn't even surprised when it ends up in open fire, and he throws Moriarty down under cover with more force than he ought probably use upon his deserving employer. The fucker cackles, and Sebastian presses him down hard, trying to shut the Irishman up as Sebastian takes down each enemy and tries to remember how many are left.

“Will you be quiet so I can concentrate?” Sebastian snaps, but not too harshly, because he values breathing.

Moriarty looks at him slowly, then his eyes glint and he inhales deeply with that little chest of his. “WE'RE OVER HERE BOYS! COME AND _GET_ US!”

What. The. Fuck.

Sebastian takes cover quickly in the face of responsive fire, glaring at Moriarty and trying his best to get them both out of this alive. Not that the little prick deserved the rescuing.

He merely smirks as Sebastian finishes off the rest, and the blond is shaking so hard from adrenaline and anger that it takes unnatural restraint not to punch that grinning face from its little neck.

“My, Moran, aren't you _resplendent_ when you're incandescent?” Moriarty mocks.

“Get in the car,” Sebastian growls, guiding him in firmly by the neck in case the cunt has any other 'clever' ideas.

“Home,” Sebastian snaps at the driver as he slams the door closed.

Moriarty flashes him a mildly interested look. “Giving the orders now, are you?”

Sebastian gives Moriarty a disgusted warning look and Moriarty merely bares his teeth in response.

When the car stops outside Moriarty's building Sebastian grips the collar of Moriarty's expensive shirt, not trusting the man not to shrug out of his suit jacket, and marches Moriarty inside.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Sebastian snarls the instant they are unobserved.

Moriarty blinks lazily at him. “You're being a tad rough, dear.”

“Rough?” Sebastian splutters. He gives Moriarty a shake. “You could have gotten us all killed in there!”

Moriarty shrugs as though he's not on his tip toes in the grasp of a much bigger man. “But I didn't. You did your job.”

“My _job_ is to keep you safe, not to manage your death wishes!” Sebastian spits.

“Moran, you're boring me,” Moriarty sighs. “Put me down.”

“If someone with my skills had been working for the other side your little stunts today would have gotten you _put down_!” Sebastian snarls.

“I hire the best,” Moriarty sneers.

Sebastian briefly loses control of his temper and slams his employer into the wall, earning a soft grunt and an interested expression. “You could have gotten yourself killed today, you _fucking mad idiot_ ,” Sebastian pants.

“Well yes, Moran, that rather was the fun of it,” Moriarty sighs.

“Fun-?” Sebastian spins the much smaller man around and before he can remember what a fucking bad idea it is, he slaps his employer hard across the seat of those expensive trousers.

Moriarty gasps in pain and surprise. He pushes against Sebastian's grip of his torso to turn around and Sebastian permits it a little.

“Did you just..?” Moriarty licks his dry lips, looking astonished, appalled, and a little amused. “You just _hit_ me. Like a little lad.”

Sebastian grits his teeth. “Trust me, if you were a kid I'd have leathered you by now.”

Moriarty purses his lips. “Would you now?”

Sebastian slams his employer back into the wall. “This is not a fucking joke. You're a fucking reckless son of a bitch.”

Moriarty sighs. “Yes, Moran, I am. That's what I've got you for.”

Sebastian glares at the back of the small brunet skull. “I won't be much good to you if you play fucking stupid games like that!”

“You managed just fine today,” Moriarty drawls.

Sebastian scowls and cannot help but smack the rear before him again. _Hard_.

Moriarty's breathing catches. “You… do realise I can have you skinned and made into accessories for taking your hand to me, right?”

“Oh I don't doubt that,” Sebastian snaps. “But maybe if I give you a thrashing before you kill me you'll think twice about playing silly beggars with the next poor bastard you pay to protect your undeserving arse.”

Moriarty stares at the wall and bites his lip. “Oh really?”

His head explodes in pain as Sebastian crashes his large hand against it. “Fuck,” Moriarty hisses.

“ _Take this seriously_ ,” Sebastian snarls.

“I might, if you hadn't just rattled my brains,” Moriarty complains sharply.

Sebastian laughs darkly and spanks his boss again. “Whose fault is that?”

Moriarty huffs, and Sebastian blinks in shock as he feels fabric brush his fingers. His criminal kingpin boss _did not_ just lean into that.

“Are you fucking with me?” Sebastian barks.

Moriarty flinches at the loud exclamation near his ear. Clearly he's not military. “Christ, not in a few minutes, no.”

Sebastian smacks the little brunet again sharply.

Moriarty definitely just leaned into that slap.

Sebastian squeezes Moriarty's smarting cheek firmly. “Please tell me that you're not enjoying this you sick fuck.”

“Why? Consent a turn off for you?” Moriarty mocks.

Sebastian throws his weight behind three slaps that snap Moriarty against the wall, the brunet's hips bruising as he cries out sharply in pain.

“Hurts, does it?” Sebastian teases.

“Obviously,” Moriarty mutters. He presses his forehead against the cool wall as Moran squeezes his stinging flesh again.

“So what does this teach you?” Sebastian asks softly.

Moriarty's brows furrow together and he glances over his shoulder. “What?”

“I thought you were intelligent?” Sebastian prompts, raising his brows.

Moriarty scowls. “Doesn't mean I can relate to the inner workings of idiots who strike the man they're supposed to be protecting.”

“I am protecting you,” Sebastian argues. “You want to put yourself in harm's way, you come to me. _You do not put yourself at risk by playing up where it could get you killed_.”

He emphasises his point with a series of smacks that leave Moriarty panting.

“I… could just kill you, you know,” the brunet points out.

“You could,” Sebastian agrees, feeling surprisingly calm despite the pounding of his self preservation instinct in his ears, “but you seem happy enough.”

“Happy,” Moriarty scoffs.

Sebastian strokes the sore bottom soothingly, pulling a soft moan from his employer's throat. “You don't agree?”

Moriarty huffs. “Get on with it already.”

Sebastian figures that he might as well be hung for a sheep than a lamb. “Trousers down, first. I want to see that red little arse of yours.”

Moriarty doesn't even make a cutting comment, freeing his arms and unfastening his belt with swift obedience. He drops his trousers dutifully.

Sebastian's eyes widen. “I guess you can do as you're told when it suits you then,” he teases, running his large hand seductively over the soft cotton of Moriarty's expensive boxers.

The little brunet leans into the touch blatantly.

Sebastian brushes his stubble against Moriarty's sensitive ear. “Do you want me to take these pants down?”

Moriarty turns his head and glares softly. “I don't beg, Moran.”

“Don't you? Hmm. We'll see,” Sebastian grins, and then he yanks down the soft underwear.

Oh my.

Moriarty's cheeks are covered in large red handprints, a deep ruby where they overlap. Sebastian feels something tight in his stomach at the thought he has done this to his deadly boss.

He runs his palm over the warm flesh.

“Aren't you pretty?” Sebastian praises.

Moriarty jerks a little. “I'm not-”

Sebastian silences him with a painful smack which rings out through the large room. “You don't argue when I've got you like this, understood?”

Moriarty leans into Sebastian sulkily. “Within reason.”

Sebastian pinches the skin under his fingers. “I'm listening.”

“Just… remember what I could do to you if you displease me,” Moriarty growls.

“Yeah, I know, you're the boss and I am giving you _exactly_ what you want,” Sebastian drawls easily, spanking Moriarty lightly.

“Harder,” Moriarty orders.

“Thought you wouldn't beg,” Sebastian teases, complying smoothly.

Moriarty gasps at the sting but glares back over his shoulder. “I wasn't -”

“Weren't you?” Sebastian taunts, dipping his head low.

Moriarty throws himself back to crash his skull irritably against the larger man's, but Sebastian moves out of the way quickly.

He tuts. “Oh dear.”

Snatching both of his employer's skinny wrists, Sebastian tugs the small knife from its sheath on his own calf and yanks Moriarty's thin arms up hard, making it difficult for the man to writhe.

“Guess I'm going to ruin your suit now sir, but it's your own fault,” Sebastian purrs, and then he pins Moriarty's arms above their heads with the knife.

“And my fucking wall,” Moriarty snaps.

Sebastian slaps him. “Well don't try to hurt me then.”

Moriarty kicks out a little with his Italian leather shoes.

Sebastian laughs. “You never do as you're told, do you?” He smacks a pained moan from the brunet.

Moriarty curses.

“Well that's no way to speak to the man who's giving you exactly what you want, is it?” Sebastian drawls.

“I'll rip your liver out,” Moriarty mutters.

Sebastian squeezes him close. “I think that would be a waste; don't you?”

“Why?” Moriarty growls.

Sebastian meets his dark gaze reasonably. “I can see that you're not flush against the wall you know?”

Moriarty's shoulders stiffen.

“You want me to do something about it?” Sebastian asks quietly.

Moriarty presses his forehead against his sleeves. “Lube's in the bedroom,” he mutters.

Sebastian freezes. He'd been thinking more a reacharound, or getting on his knees if Moriarty asked nicely enough. Swallowing, the blond says, “Just so we're clear, what are you asking for?”

“I'm not asking, I'm telling,” Moriarty grumbles.

Sebastian rubs his thumb over the bottom of Moriarty's spine, his fingers half hidden by the bottom of the suit jacket. “Fine,” Sebastian growls softly, “what are you telling me?”

Moriarty glares over his shoulder. “I want you to use those enormous hands of yours to stretch me wide then I want you to _fuck_ me.”

Sebastian draws a hand lightly over Moriarty's tender hip, aching from where it has connected repeatedly with the wall. “Are you sure, boss?”

Moriarty yanks down his elbows, tearing his sleeves free, and spins around. “ _Now_ , Moran.”

“Okay, okay, you're in control,” Sebastian responds with a roll of his eyes. The blond could -and might- face an ugly death for all of this, but they both know Sebastian is physically much stronger. He could easily snap Moriarty's neck before the brunet could jump up for the discarded knife.

Before Moriarty can do much more than snarl Sebastian tugs the smaller man out of his ruined suit jacket. Moriarty kicks off his trousers, socks and shoes in one go, then wriggles his boxers further down his thighs to be free of them.

Sebastian swoops Moriarty up in his arms – he hardly weighs a thing – and carries him through to the bedroom. The brunet starts to protest, but the words die on his tongue and he merely focuses on being so physically close to his bodyguard.

Sebastian judges better than to throw Moriarty down on the mattress, even if he imagines the brunet would squeak prettily at landing on his sore rear, and instead lowers Moriarty so the man can climb onto the bed himself.

Moriarty reaches into a bedside drawer and Sebastian tenses himself to wrestle away a weapon, but the short man merely pulls out a bottle of lube and throws it hard at Moran's chest. “ _Now_.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes again. “You're spoiled; you know that?”

“Less talking; more making me scream, Moran,” Moriarty snaps, spreading his thighs and tugging at his silk tie.

“Leave it,” Sebastian murmurs. “Gives me something to wrap my hands around.”

Moriarty shoots him a venomous look. “You'll wrap my hands around my hips and like it.”

Sebastian chuckles and sheds his jacket and shoes. “Will I now?”

Moriarty spins around and snatches Moran's own tie. “Fucking _now_ being the operative word, Moran.”

Sebastian grins at the fire in his employer's eyes, and makes sure he's got Moriarty safely restrained before he presses his skull against Moriarty's and purrs, “Sounds like you do beg, boss.”

Moriarty thrashes. “It was a fucking order and if you don't get your fingers inside me right now Sebastian Moran I will rip them off and feed them to you!”

Sebastian kisses Moriarty's prominent spine. “Bossy little bottom, aren't you?”

“Do you want to keep that tongue in your mouth?” Moriarty snarls.

“Do you?” Sebastian responds. “I think I'd give considerably less skilled blowjobs with no tongue left in my mouth, sir.”

“You're such an asshole,” Moriarty growls.

Sebastian brushes his calloused fingers over the brunet's wet tip. “Again, you don't seem to mind.”

Sebastian pulls back and removes his clothing quickly, expecting to be struck, but Moriarty merely watches over his shoulder with a heated expression.

Sebastian lifts the lube bottle and places some of the cold substance in his hand. “Alright, bring that cute little arse to me.”

Moriarty stiffens and turns, sitting down with a glare, even though his expression tightens with pain. “Never call me cute.”

“Your _arse_ is cute, not you,” Sebastian argues calmly. “ _You're_ just grumpy.”

“I'm not-”

“Do you want me to stretch you open or not?” Sebastian asks.

“Make it good: you're going to die horribly once you've pleased me,” Moriarty sulks, turning reluctantly.

Sebastian leans forward and kisses the pale back before him. “You can stop posturing you know. I am well aware you're not a sweet little twink desperate to suck my cock.”

Moriarty gives him a cool look as though he's suspicious that Moran only meant he didn't find Moriarty _sweet_. The brunet is quite aware of his own diminutive stature, big dark eyes and pretty, sulky mouth.

Sebastian puts his clean hand on Moriarty's lower back. “You ready?”

Still glaring, the brunet spreads his thighs and raises his hips.

Sebastian strokes his crease slowly, adding more lube and teasing the wrinkled skin. Moriarty wriggles a little, but bites down on any noise.

Sebastian manages to pull out a gasp from the smaller man by slowly pushing in a finger. “If there's a next time, I'd like to stick my tongue in there. If you haven't cut it out that is, boss.”

“Heathen,” Moriarty mutters.

Sebastian adds a second finger. “What was that?” he asks playfully.

Moriarty hisses, but pushes back against the intrusion with pleasure. “You're going to die,” he promises softly.

“Hell of a way to go,” Sebastian says, watching through blown pupils as his fingers disappear up to the third knuckle inside _Moriarty_.

“More,” the brunet mutters, low in his throat.

“No please?” Sebastian mocks.

“I pay you: I don't need to say please,” Moriarty huffs.

“Manners don't cost a thing,” Sebastian scolds teasingly, then he pushes in another digit.

Moriarty squirms, gasping in a way that actually sounds happy. Sebastian fucks him on his fingers for a bit, enjoying how the smaller man glares over his shoulder but then arches his neck to groan.

“Fuck me already,” Moriarty snarls.

“No, not yet,” Sebastian argues, swatting a still-red cheek lightly. “You're such a little thing I'll make you bleed if I don't prepare you with four.”

“I don't mind a bit of pain,” Moriarty spits. “I want your cock filling me _now_ Moran!”

“As flattering as that is, boss, it's my job to look after you, remember?” Sebastian teases. “Hurting this fine arse with a little spanking won't do you much harm, but I'm not willing to _split you open_.”

“Very admirable,” Moriarty hisses, pushing his arse out, “now _do_ as you're _told_.”

Sebastian eases in another finger. “I could stop completely, if you want to act spoiled,” he purrs.

Moriarty growls at the threat, then winces a little at the stretch.

“See, didn't I _tell_ you that you weren't ready yet?” Sebastian chides.

“I want to feel it afterwards,” Moriarty complains.

Sebastian presses himself against Moriarty's cheeks. “Oh trust me boss,” he says dryly, “I'm pretty sure you're going to _feel_ it.”

Moriarty twists around, rage burning in his brown eyes. “Stick your prick in me right now, Moran.”

Sebastian pulls his fingers out slowly and takes his sweet time lubing up his dick, getting a twisted enjoyment from the deadly promise in his employer's threatening gaze.

The blond swiftly grabs Moriarty's hips, enjoying the bitten down upon squeal, and draws Moriarty close to press into his heat.

“More,” Moriarty complains. “And not so slow… _I'm not fucking delicate Moran._ ”

“Sweetheart, I might just gag you next time,” Sebastian teases, swatting the sore bottom before him lightly and leaving clear, thick fingerprints.

“Don't call me that,” Moriarty rebukes.

Sebastian raises his brows. “Oh, so that's a yes to the gagging, is it?”

Moriarty does not respond.

Sebastian presses another trail of kisses down the tense back. “Duly noted, boss.”

Moriarty huffs crossly.

“ _Thrust_ already,” he demands.

For once Sebastian decides not to tease, and merely obeys, with a force that has the little brunet scrabbling for the sheets.

Sebastian can't help but chuckle softly against Moriarty's shoulder. “This what you like boss?”

“Stop talking just fuck me,” Moriarty groans.

“Yes sir,” Sebastian says, and he does.

Mr Moriarty, Sebastian discovers, is a screamer. A ripping the bedsheets, bursting your eardrums, throat sounds raw afterwards, screamer.

And Sebastian fucking loves that.

The brunet looks a little dazed afterwards, and Sebastian forces himself to snap out his own orgasm quickly lest Moriarty comes back to himself soon and declares that he was only interested in granting his own pleasure.

Moriarty slaps Sebastian weakly as the blond crashes down on top of him moments later. “Get off of me; you're heavy.”

Sebastian pulls out gently and rolls off him, half expecting a hand to the throat once Moriarty is less buzzed.

The brunet gives the mess dripping down his body a disgusted look but flops back on the pillows. “You have your uses I suppose,” he mumbles.

Sebastian looks his employer over. “Don't think I'll reward you like this if you do something so stupid again.”

Moriarty bristles instantly. “Stupid?”

Sebastian plants a warning hand on his boss' throat. “Very stupid.”

Moriarty slaps ineffectively at the hand. “Don't leave marks where they can be seen.”

“Why not? You're having me killed anyway, remember? Made into handbags or shoes or something equally morbid,” Sebastian states.

Moriarty gives him a surly look. “I'm not bored of you yet.”

Sebastian tries not to smirk lest it sign his own death warrant and instead sits up, bowing his head to lick Moriarty clean.

The brunet squirms but does not push the blond head away. “Sebastian that's disgusting...”

Sebastian looks up and meets Moriarty's gaze as he licks a long, broad stripe up the thin, white torso. “Sebastian, huh?”

Moriarty makes a face. “Moran, whatever.”

“So do I get to know your name?” Sebastian asks, lapping at the mess.

“You weren't _that_ good a fuck,” Moriarty snorts.

“Lucky I've still got my tongue to display my spectacular blow job skills then,” the blond teases.

Moriarty sniggers lightly and closes his eyes. “You'll be the fucking death of me.”

“Rather the opposite, if you stop being bratty and let me do my job properly,” Sebastian grumbles.

Moriarty's eyes snap open and he kicks Sebastian's shoulder. “Bratty?” he snaps irately.

Sebastian cringes and sticks his nose between the nearby cheeks. “Did I mention I also give amazing 'forgive me' rim jobs?”

Moriarty makes a noise that may have been a snort and drags Sebastian up by the hair. “I'm going to sleep. Make sure I don't die.”

Sebastian blinks. “You want me to sleep here?”

“You can sleep on the floor by the front door for all I care, just shut up and don't wake me up.”

Sebastian risks leaning in a little.

“I don't fucking snuggle, Moran,” Moriarty states without opening his eyes again.

“You could get a chill,” Sebastian says hopefully.

“I could gag you, you know.”

“Promise?”

“Right before I cut off your ears, since you don't listen anyway, Moran.”

Sebastian sighs and settles down. Moriarty doesn't kill him in his sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Moriarty turns and surveys Moran with an unreadable yet slightly jagged expression. “Slept here then?”

Sebastian shrugs, wondering how the small brunet can look so deadly in a state of undress and with such messy, cute hair. Probably the way those dark eyes burn cold. “You said I could.”

“Be useful and make me tea,” Moriarty grumbles then closes his eyes again.

Sebastian twitches his lips a little. “You don't want another tumble first?”

Moriarty kicks him. “ _Tea _, now.”__

__Sebastian catches the narrow ankles, feeling like he might be taking his own life in his hands as he does so. “I'm going; I'm going. What do you want to eat with your precious tea?”_ _

__Moriarty glowers and pulls his legs away. “I don't eat in the mornings.”_ _

__Sebastian arches a brow. “You know that's not good for you, right?”_ _

__Moriarty leans back and closes one eye. “I don't need to eat: _you_ eat in the morning as it's _your_ body that protects mine.”_ _

__“That's… really not how it works,” Sebastian says._ _

__Moriarty leans into his pillows, both eyes closed. “Here's how it works Moran: I tell you to do something, you do it without questioning me, or you die.”_ _

__“Again, I'm supposed to take care of your wellbeing,” Sebastian points out._ _

__Moriarty sighs and pulls a small handgun from under his pillow. “Where's my tea, Moran?”_ _

__Sebastian sighs. “Are you fucking serious?”_ _

__Moriarty fires a warning shot then lazily returns the barrel to point at Moran's face. “Make sure it's a good colour: don't overdo it on the milk.”_ _

__“Mad fucking bastard,” Sebastian says exasperatedly, but moves to obey. “Earl Grey, two sugars?”_ _

__“There's a lamb,” Moriarty agrees._ _

__Sebastian can heart his heart hammering as though it's jumped into his ears as he moves through to Jim's kitchen. Switching on the kettle, the blond lays his palms flat on the counter and wills them to stop shaking so he can complete his task without spilling sugar everywhere or dropping one of Moriarty's expensive teacups._ _

__Better._ _

__Sebastian makes Moriarty's tea and pulls out one of the mugs he is permitted to use since Moriarty moved him in as a full time minder. The blond supposes he'll have to wait to eat, because fuck risking getting toast crumbs amongst Moriarty's bedding, and carries the drinks through to Moriarty's bedroom._ _

__“Tea, boss,” Sebastian states warily. “You sure you don't want even a biscuit with this or something?”_ _

__“Stop fussing; it's too damned early.” Moriarty pulls himself up into a reluctant sitting position against the headboard. “Bring it.”_ _

__Sebastian does so and Moriarty peers into the teacup suspiciously. “Appears passable.”_ _

__“Taste it and let me know if you need more sugar or milk or anything,” Sebastian says._ _

__Moriarty arches one brow mockingly. “Don't worry, I'll be sure to tell you if I'm displeased.”_ _

__Sebastian finds himself tensing as he watches Moriarty blow on the scalding liquid and take a sip. Dying over a cup of tea seems melodramatic, but possibly quaint enough to amuse Moriarty's grim sensibilities._ _

__Moriarty heaves a soft sigh. “At ease Moran; you'll live.”_ _

__Sebastian crosses to 'his' side of the bed and sits down with his mug. “That a compliment?”_ _

__Moriarty stares for a beat. “What the fuck are you doing?”_ _

__“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks._ _

__“I permitted you into my bed last night to fuck me: it wasn't an open invitation,” Moriarty states._ _

__“Good fucking morning to you too,” Sebastian sighs. “Fine, I'll leave you be and you can brief me on today later.”_ _

__Moriarty gets comfortable. “Don't look so glum Moran: not many leave my bed alive.”_ _

__“Well thanks for that, boss,” Sebastian mutters, getting up and carrying his tea back through to the kitchen. He's tempted to make as much noise as possible making something to eat, but he's not really that petty, and he would rather stay alive._ _

__Sebastian's nerves are strung tightly when they go out later that day. Moriarty gives the bodyguard an amused look like he knows exactly what Moran is anticipating, but doesn't cause any undue problems._ _

__Sebastian has almost begun to believe he may have imagined fucking Moriarty (although he really doubts he has that creative an imagination) when, months later, Moriarty leads him into a meeting and gives Moran a _look_._ _

__Sebastian leans close. “No,” he whispers._ _

__Moriarty sighs teasingly. “Moran don't be _boring_.”_ _

__Sebastian keeps his gaze on their enemies but mutters, “I told you: no stupid risks.”_ _

__Moriarty grins darkly enough that Sebastian senses it, as though on some level he is attuned to the wet movement of the brunet's lips across his teeth. “What you going to do about it Moran?” he sing songs._ _

__Sebastian turns. “Boss-”_ _

__Moriarty breaks the professional truce by pulling his gun and shooting up people at random: his own employees included._ _

__Sebastian dives after the little madman in the hopes of dragging the feckless cunt into cover and disarming him._ _

__Which he eventually manages, but a bullet grazes Sebastian's wrist in the process from someone trying to disarm the blond. It stings and bleeds freely but does not overly hinder Sebastian's movements as he pins Moriarty to the floor._ _

__“You got me shot, you little pyscho,” Sebastian huffs._ _

__Moriarty chuckles. “You had best hope it's the only time… although I doubt that.”_ _

__“You're asking for it,” Sebastian warns darkly._ _

__Moriarty rolls his hips. “Obviously.”_ _

__Sebastian leans close, enjoying the body underneath him. Glancing around for dangers to them both, the blond growls, “Didn't I tell you to come tell me if you needed sorting?”_ _

__Moriarty bucks a little. “Where would be the fun in that?” he drawls, sounding bored._ _

__Sebastian tugs the dark hair a little. “You're in trouble when I get us out of here.”_ _

__“Looking forward to that. Now get on with it,” Moriarty responds._ _

__Sebastian sniggers despite himself but does so anyway: disabling enough foes to get Moriarty the hell out and into one of their cars._ _

__“You're fucking lucky I don't beat you in front of your own driver,” Sebastian hisses._ _

__Moriarty sneers. “You value your life.”_ _

__“And you're going to value being able to sit down because I'm going to ensure you're hurting for days,” Sebastian spits._ _

__Moriarty laughs. “Good boy.”_ _

__Sebastian fixes him with a look. “Pity I can never say the same about _you_.”_ _

__“Mm,” Moriarty hums. “You should definitely beat me.”_ _

__Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Maybe I should just tie you down and leave you. A time out might be more effective than giving you exactly what you want.”_ _

__Moriarty's expression turns cold. “You'll hurt me and fuck me, Moran, or I'll take your head from your shoulders.”_ _

__Sebastian glances quickly at the driver, ensuring they are unobserved, then quickly grips his employer's chin. “You're cementing my decision to gag you, boss.”_ _

__Moriarty doesn't pull away immediately. He arches a brow and states, “I'd like to see you try.”_ _

__Sebastian drops his hand as they approach Moriarty's property. “Come on then.”_ _

__The brunet behaves himself whilst still in sight of the driver, but once they are inside Sebastian tightens his grip on Moriarty and drags him upstairs._ _

__“Right, strip,” Sebastian orders._ _

__Moriarty gives him a cool, challenging look. “You know I don't take orders, Moran.”_ _

__Sebastian dips his head closer and pinches the smaller man's rear hard enough to bruise. “You wanted to hand yourself over to me for a while so that is exactly what you're gonna do, boss.”_ _

__“Oh really?” Moriarty sneers._ _

__Sebastian pushes closer, pinning him to the wall. “It's your decision: either you can undress yourself, or I'll rip your clothes off, and I doubt you pay me enough for me to replace this fancy suit of yours...”_ _

__Moriarty curls his lip. “If that's your way of asking for a raise...”_ _

__Sebastian chuckles and reaches down to grip the part of his employer which is jutting insistently into him. “There's only one rise I'm interested in right now.”_ _

__Moriarty's breathing hitches._ _

__Sebastian gives him an amused look. “So what's it to be? You gonna do as you're told or am I going to destroy this handsome outfit?”_ _

__Dark eyes glitter back at the blond. “Destroy it.”_ _

__Sebastian grins and dips his head to nip Moriarty's neck. “Yes boss.” The blond grips the finely tailored suit jacket and uses considerable force to tear it._ _

__Moriarty reaches up a hand to tug at the hair on the back of Moran's neck. “What have I told you about leaving marks where they can be seen?”_ _

__“Don't be booooring,” Sebastian teases, mimicking his employer's drawl._ _

__Moriarty's eyes glitter. “You're in trouble.”_ _

__Sebastian rips the shirt. Buttons fly like shrapnel. “Don't you mean you are?”_ _

__“I'm getting exactly what I want,” Moriarty says imperiously._ _

__Sebastian yanks at the small hips, pulling them close to unfasten Moriarty's belt. “And I'm not?”_ _

__Moriarty's pupils are wide and dark. “Inconsequential, but lucky you.”_ _

__Sebastian barks out a laugh. “You got me _shot_ today. That's not lucky.”_ _

__Moriarty shrugs, glancing down at the scabbing wound. “You're lucky you've only bled on the car upholstery and not my carpet.”_ _

__Sebastian rolls his eyes and pushes down Moriarty's trousers. “Yeah, yeah, you can smack me for that later.”_ _

__“Oh, I'm sorry, are you busy right now?” Moriarty sneers._ _

__Sebastian pushes him hard against the wall. “Sorry,” he says with faux innocence, “can't you tell?”_ _

__Moriarty huffs out a laugh. “Get to the good bits already, you wanker.”_ _

__Sebastian bites his neck lightly. “I'll take all night if I want to. _You're_ being punished.”_ _

__“Will you leave my neck alone?” Moriarty snaps, although he makes no effort to move away. “That's not how this works.”_ _

__Sebastian fondles him with a smile. “Isn't it?”_ _

__Moriarty thrusts into the large hand a little. “Get on with it...”_ _

__Sebastian steps aside and slaps the smaller man's rear. “Bedroom,” he growls softly._ _

__Moriarty gives Sebastian a heated look, kicks off his trousers and shoes, and moves to obey. Sebastian admires him for a moment then dives after his employer, picking him up and carrying the struggling brunet to the bed._ _

__Sebastian deposits Moriarty on the sheets and quietens the protests with a firm smack. The man looks intriguing in only his boxers, socks, crumpled tie and a few smears of Sebastian's blood._ _

__The blond approaches, pressing a sloppy kiss into Moriarty's jaw, and tugs on the tie, pulling it close to undo the knot. Moriarty watches with dark eyes, the pulse under his jaw a mesmerising tick._ _

__Sebastian undoes the tie and rubs a rough thumb over Moriarty's lower lip. “Open up.”_ _

__Moriarty glares a little but parts his lips obediently._ _

__“Good,” Sebastian praises softly, placing the length of the tie in the brunet's mouth and tying the ends carefully at the back of Moriarty's head._ _

__Sebastian tests the knot and runs his fingers against the corners of his employer's lips. “Not too uncomfortable?”_ _

__Moriarty rolls his eyes, his tie already darkening with his spit, and reaches for Sebastian's lapels to pull him closer._ _

__Sebastian complies easily and gives Moriarty a few lazy strokes. “So, here's what I'm gonna do to you. I'm going to spank this deserving arse until it's a beautiful shade of red, then I'm going to spread these cheeks and lick you for as long as I like. _Then_ , if you've behaved yourself, I'm going to stretch you out, and if you're patient, I might just spread these thighs and fuck you. Alright?”_ _

__Moriarty gives Sebastian a challenging glare, but his slight hands travel down to his waistband._ _

__Sebastian crouches and presses a kiss into the side of one of Moriarty's bent knees. The brunet meets his gaze then raises those hips, pulling his underwear down to his thighs._ _

__Sebastian turns Moriarty onto his side, kneading the brunet's cheeks then spanking the perfect bottom. “Now why can't you be that well behaved all the time, huh?”_ _

__Moriarty squirms and Sebastian grins, pulling the smaller man up flush against Sebastian's muscular chest. Holding Moriarty tight enough to feel his rabbit heart pounding, Sebastian delivers a series of smacks that get the brunet grinding and panting, leaving a smear of precum across Sebastian's torso._ _

__“See? You do like being put in your place, don't you?” Sebastian teases._ _

__Moriarty pulls back a bit, punching Moran's shoulder._ _

__Sebastian lands a harsh smack that leaves Moriarty panting against his gag._ _

__“Don't you?” Sebastian prompts._ _

__Moriarty sighs through his nose and pushes his rear up into Sebastian's warm hand._ _

__“Was that so difficult?” Sebastian grins. He places his lips on Moriarty's ear and whispers, “Get on your belly and I'll kiss you better.”_ _

__Moriarty rolls his eyes but pulls away at once, lying down on his stomach with his cheek pressed into the pillows._ _

__“I do like it when you're good,” Sebastian murmurs, getting on his elbows and kissing the dimples of Moriarty's lower back._ _

__Moriarty casts a disparaging look over his shoulder._ _

__Sebastian starts to gently kiss and lick the aching garnet cheeks before him. Moriarty's expression quickly changes to one of slightly embarrassed pleasure. He scowls but pushes up into the contact._ _

__Sebastian spreads the sore cheeks, exposing a path of white skin where the slaps haven't landed, and licks it gently. Moriarty makes a noise against the gag and Sebastian pulls back to check he's okay._ _

__Moriarty makes a disgruntled noise and pushes up against Sebastian's face pointedly._ _

__Sebastian laughs, patting Moriarty's thigh in acceptance, and dips back down. He exposes the naturally redder part of the brunet's crease and laves it with his tongue._ _

__Moriarty moans coherently at the contact._ _

__Sebastian licks and kisses and sucks and blows, and the usually tightly strung Moriarty turns to jelly, relaxing softly into the attention._ _

__“That good?” Sebastian purrs close to the wet skin. His breath sends shivers down Moriarty's back. The brunet moans softly in agreement._ _

__Sebastian's lips are swollen and red as he presses them against the smaller man. “You want my fingers now?”_ _

__Moriarty nods and leans up to reach for his bedside drawer._ _

__Sebastian presses him back down. “Leave it. I take care of you, remember?”_ _

__Moriarty rolls his eyes but there isn't as much warning in them as usual. He flops back down easily, mumbling some inaudible threats against the tie._ _

__Sebastian bites his thigh lightly then reaches up and retrieves the lube. He strokes the pink rear before him with the hand that wasn't shot today. “You've been less bratty than usual. Think it will last when I start fucking you on my fingers?”_ _

__Moriarty narrows his eyes a little at the 'bratty' comment but pushes up his rear pointedly._ _

__Sebastian kisses it. Then he pours out some lube and lavishes Moriarty's wet little rosebud with attention._ _

__He plays with Moriarty at length, using the action more to tease the smaller man's prostate than to merely prepare the hole to take something larger. The brunet gives Sebastian a few burning looks and what sounds like curses through the material, but mostly he's distracted by the sensations Moran gifts him._ _

__“Boss?” Sebastian murmurs._ _

__Moriarty glances around questioningly._ _

__“Do you want me to fuck you now?”_ _

__Moriarty wrinkles his nose a little then looks away and raises his hips high._ _

__“You can ask better than that,” Sebastian says. “I want a nod at least.”_ _

__Moriarty hesitates for a beat then nods obediently._ _

__“Wasn't so hard, was it?” Sebastian murmurs. He tugs his employer close and enters in one sharp thrust, like Moriarty had asked for last time._ _

__The brunet groans around the wet strip of fabric in his mouth._ _

__Sebastian reaches up and loosens the knot at the back of Moriarty's head. The smaller man pulls the damp tie away, swallowing thickly, and gazes over his shoulder._ _

__“Is this not better than almost getting yourself killed?” Sebastian asks._ _

__Moriarty snorts. “That's the foreplay.”_ _

__“Couldn't I just point a gun at your head and then put your legs over my shoulders?” Sebastian questions dryly. He rolls his hips teasingly._ _

__Moriarty gives him a quiet, considering look. He turns abruptly and pushes hard against Sebastian's length. “Perhaps.”_ _

__Sebastian swats him. “I don't like it when you put yourself in danger.”_ _

__Moriarty rolls his eyes. “Man enough to stop me, aren't you?” he mutters acerbically, leaning into Moran's thrusts._ _

__“Man enough to just tell me straight what you want, aren't you?” Sebastian counters. “No need for risky games.”_ _

__“I like the games, Moran,” Moriarty complains, panting slightly at the blond's pace._ _

__Sebastian creates another red handprint with a crack against the brunet's skin. “Well I _don't_ ,” he says with a particularly rough thrust, “and I'm paid to keep you _safe_.”_ _

__“Will you stop talking and concentrate on fucking me hard?” Moriarty snaps._ _

__Sebastian rolls his eyes and reaches around to grip the smaller man's prick. “Pretty sure you like the scolding.”_ _

__Moriarty stiffens a little then glares over his shoulder. “I told you to shut up.”_ _

__“And you give the orders with your suit on,” Sebastian replies. “When you're bent over for me you trust me to give you what you want, got it?”_ _

__Moriarty looks surprised and confused for a moment, then huffs. “If you don't make me cum soon I am going to castrate you.”_ _

__Sebastian smacks him. “What have I just told you about your backchat, boss?”_ _

__Moriarty glowers and opens his mouth to retort, but Sebastian sighs chidingly and pulls out._ _

__“What are you doing?” Moriarty protests._ _

__Sebastian smirks softly at the hint of alarm in the brunet's voice. “Relax, I'm just going to make it easier for you to accept your place.”_ _

__“Excuse me?” Moriarty growls._ _

__Without an answer, Sebastian flips the smaller man onto his back and quick throws Moriarty's legs over his shoulders._ _

__Moriarty blinks at him in surprise._ _

__Sebastian lines himself up and as he pushes in he also presses his hand down on Moriarty's throat. The pressure is not firm enough to stop the brunet's air, but it makes it apparent that Sebastian is dominating._ _

__Moriarty scowls but avoids the blond's gaze. He pushes his hips close._ _

__Sebastian turns his head and kisses Moriarty's leg, the sparse, dark hair soft against his face. “Better?”_ _

__Moriarty grunts, but his breath quickly catches as Moran begins to snap his hips with fierce force. The brunet begins to unravel._ _

__“Like that?” Sebastian whispers._ _

__Moriarty's eyes don't even flutter. He groans in response._ _

__Sebastian grins and continues his pace, feeling a surge of pride as Moriarty starts to explode beneath him. The blond squeezes his hand a little tighter and relishes the noise his employer makes._ _

__Sebastian concentrates and lets the pressure build until he is rocking wet heat up inside Moriarty._ _

__Letting go of the smaller man's throat, Sebastian slides out gently and rolls to the side. “Think you're going to be sore for days, boss.”_ _

__Moriarty gives him a sleepy glare. “Don't sound smug.”_ _

__“Or what?” Sebastian teases._ _

__“Or you won't be getting that raise, or even a bonus.”_ _


	3. Chapter 3

They are in a meeting when Sebastian is astonished to have Moriarty's slight weight drop heavily into his lap. The blond gives him a questioning look, but the man ignores him and reaches comfortably under Sebastian's suit jacket for a handgun.

Sebastian feels trepidation twist his gut even as a surge of excitement tingles his naval. He can't afford to get aroused yet: he needs all his brain power for the mess Moriarty is about to create.

The blond leans close. “Do you have to?”

Moriarty smirks cuttingly. “Yes. I do.”

Sebastian feels sick as the other men at the table start to react uncomfortably and Moriarty pans the gun around the table.

And then Sebastian has an idea. He slides his hand into his pocket discretely, touching the volume buttons to make the phone vibrate a little, and pulls it from his pocket.

Moriarty looks at him oddly. Watchful in curiosity and mistrust.

Sebastian pretends to take a call. “What? Uh huh. If you say so.” The blond 'hangs up' and puts his free hand carefully on Moriarty's collar. The man on his lap stiffens.

Sebastian turns to Moriarty and stands, pulling the shorter man to his feet with him. “They called off the hit. He paid up.”

Moriarty frowns, but Moran has twisted the gun very carefully from his grasp, making the action look utterly casual. Sebastian forces his employer out of the room as slowly as he can bear.

Moriarty cuffs Sebastian as soon as the door is closed behind them. “If you think you were _clever_ -”

Sebastian quickly forces his hand into the smaller man's mouth. “Be quiet, or they'll hear you.”

Moriarty frowns and tries to step back to empty his mouth. Sebastian grasps the brunet's lapels tightly.

“Just hold in that tantrum for a moment; got it?” Moran warns dangerously.

Moriarty hits the blond's chest sharply with the length of his thin forearm. Sebastian ignores it and yanks the smaller man firmly.

“Your office; _right_ now,” he commands fiercely.

Moriarty feels a sliver of fear and delight swirl in his stomach. He blinks and tries to glare menacingly, but Moran pays no heed.

Sebastian throws Moriarty into the room and locks the door behind them.

“This room monitored?” he ask gruffly.

Moriarty swallows. “Why would I tell you?”

That's answer enough. “Good,” Sebastian states coolly. He advances on the skinnier criminal.

Moriarty's gaze darts about, assessing exits, and he feels a strange flutter in his stomach at how _angry_ Moran seems. The large man seems to exude threat from his very pores in waves. “Moran...”

Sebastian chuckles darkly. “Oh, now you have a sense of self preservation, do you?”

Moriarty tries to glare. “I'm your _boss_ , Moran.”

“Yes you are,” Sebastian agrees icily, “ _and_ you were begging in there for the punishment I'm going to give you.”

Moriarty splutters a little and edges back warily. “I… I don't beg, Moran.”

“Is that really all you took from what I just said, boss?” Sebastian growls.

“I heard you,” Moriarty says.

“And what did I say?” snarls the blond.

Moriarty presses his lips together stubbornly.

Sebastian closes the distance between them and grabs his employer's upper arm in a harsh grip that will leave painful, blue and purple bruises later. Moriarty inhales quickly.

“What did I say?” Sebastian demands.

Moriarty shakes his head awkwardly, as though trying to dislodge a spherical thought from a corner of his brain.

Sebastian slaps Moriarty hard across the jaw, splitting the smaller man's lip in a burst of vivid pain.

“Not my face!” Moriarty blurts.

“There's nothing in your calendar for the next week or two that you can't do from home,” Sebastian declares, making his employer's eyes widen.

The blond slaps the same side of Moriarty's face again with that large, rough hand. The brunet winces.

“Now,” Moran begins crisply, “you're going to tell me what I'm going to do to you.”

“Fuck off,” Moriarty grumbles in a smaller voice than he would like.

Sebastian tugs the brunet's head back sharply. “You can make it worse for yourself as much as you like, but the less obedient you are the more marks I'm going to put on you that other people will be able to see.”

Moriarty freezes then frowns. “You work for _me_. You don't make that call.”

Sebastian slaps that red target on Moriarty's face yet again. “Firstly, you know that any time you play up like this your arse and everything else is mine. Secondly, if you really wanted me to stop you know fine well the simple little thing you need to say.”

“Christ, at least slap the other side of my face,” Moriarty mutters.

Sebastian chuckles. “But your face crumples so sweetly when you're sore, boss.”

Moriarty shoots him a hateful look.

Sebastian grins and takes grip of the man's chin, tilting it slightly from side to side as though musing which side to hurt next. “Still nothing to say?”

“Get fucked,” Moriarty grumbles.

Sebastian smirks and pats the tender cheek. “I only spread my legs as a reward, and you've been very bad.”

Moriarty's gaze flickers and Sebastian feels a tingle as the brunet evidently considers the possibility of _taking_ him.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Moriarty asks huskily.

Sebastian swallows and grins back down at the smaller man. “I'm waiting for you to admit to me what I'm going to do, but it seems you're too nervous.”

Moriarty's mouth falls open and he scowls. “You know that's not-”

“Then tell me,” Sebastian whispers, leaning close.

Moriarty swallows.

“The sooner you tell me, boss, the sooner I'm going to take down these trousers and bend you over that desk of yours.”

Moriarty inhales quickly.

“Exactly,” Sebastian murmurs.

Moriarty considers. “You… are going to punish me.”

Moran presses his teeth to Moriarty's ear. “Get over there,” he growls.

Moriarty nods slowly and crosses to the desk.

Sebastian follows, slapping the smaller man possessively across the rear.

Moriarty looks up, waiting for further instruction. Sebastian presses close and unbuckles the man's belt. 

“I'm going to hurt you. Tell me when you want more or when you're ready for me to stop,” the blond orders.

Moriarty nods quickly, rolling his hips a little although he's not pressed against the desk yet.

Sebastian lets go of the belt and pinches the smaller man's bottom. “Be patient.”

“Give me what I want,” Moriarty grumbles.

Sebastian slaps him sharply. “I am.”

Moriarty hisses. Moran returns his hands to the belt and slides it through the loops of Moriarty's trousers.

The brunet looks over his shoulder quickly. “You're going to-?”

“Yes,” Sebastian states crisply. “Is that a problem?”

Moriarty shakes his head. Moran yanks it back by the dark hair. “I like to hear you,” Sebastian says fiercely, “and you _know_ you like to tell me.”

“Do not,” the brunet mutters.

Sebastian bites down on the exposed neck in reprimand. Moriarty quivers and bats the larger man away, spitting, “Fine, I like it.”

“You like telling me, or you like that I'm going to bend you over your own desk, in your own office, and spank you hard with your own belt?” Moran questions.

Moriarty swallows. “Both,” he growls.

Sebastian palms Moriarty's groin. “I think you're finally telling the truth.”

Moriarty thrusts into the touch.

“Did I not already tell you to be patient?” Moran scolds, removing his hand and using it to spank the smaller man instead.

Moriarty gives a frustrated sigh. Moran smirks. “Trousers and pants down, boss.”

The brunet grins and moves to unzip himself immediately. Sebastian puts a restraining hand on the thin arm. “Slowly.”

Moriarty huffs but doesn't argue before obeying. 

Sebastian squeezes the bum before him. “Better.”

Moriarty drops his clothing and looks to Moran expectantly.

“You have my permission to bend over your desk,” Sebastian purrs teasingly.

The brunet gives him a dirty look but steps closer to the furniture and drops down against it. 

Sebastian kneads the smooth globes offered to him. “How hard do you want this?”

“ _Hard_.”

Moran strokes Moriarty's crease, making the short man tremble. “Hard enough that you wince? Hard enough that you cry? Hard enough that you scream?”

Moriarty considers, tingling all the way down to his toes in apprehension and excitement. Mouth a little dry, he answers, “Hard enough that it's painful tomorrow, but not by next week?”

Sebastian dips to kiss the doomed flesh. “Alright.” And then he straightens with remarkable speed and cracks the folded belt hard across Moriarty's skin.

The man cries out in surprise at the pain and its intensity.

“You told me you want it to hurt,” Moran teases.

“I thought you'd build up to it,” Moriarty grits out. “Another.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says smoothly, and crashes down another stripe of hot, burning pain.

Moriarty groans against the desk, his hips feeling almost wet from the force of his flinch against the desk. A pair of bruises to match those decorating his rear.

“More?” Sebastian asks.

Moriarty nods.

Sebastian scratches the sore flesh with his short nails. “Verbally, boss.”

Moriarty hisses then growls. He raises his hips. “More.”

“Alright.” Moran swings hard against the least marked cheek.

Moriarty breathes through the instinct to whimper and waits. Moran remains still. “Again,” the brunet prompts.

Sebastian obeys, and his employer asks for more until the little brunet is trembling and panting.

“A… Another?” Moriarty asks softly.

Sebastian shakes his head and drops the belt, running a hand very gently over the swollen, painful skin. “You've had enough.”

“I can take more,” the brunet protests breathlessly.

“I'm intending to give you pain _and_ pleasure,” Sebastian points out. “If I hurt you much more you're not going to enjoy being fucked.”

“Persuasive,” Moriarty chuckles weakly.

Sebastian grins and tenderly strokes near the smaller man's entrance. “Am I using spit, or do you have anything better?”

Moriarty glances over his shoulder, enough to catch Moran's gaze but hopefully not enough to show the tears shining in his eyes. “Other side of the desk, second drawer on the right. I'd get it, but… I can't...”

“Hey, I don't expect you to move after just taking that,” Sebastian soothes. He finds the drawer and smirks as he pulls out a bottle of lotion. “Boss, I'm shocked.”

“Most men touch themselves, Moran,” Moriarty responds.

“Yeah, but in their home, not their office, you slut,” Sebastian teases.

“You're about to fuck me over my desk; your point is moot,” Moriarty states.

“Suppose,” muses Sebastian. He squirts out some cream and heats it between his hands, but surprises his employer by applying it carefully to the throbbing cheeks. “That feel better?”

It's cool and soothing. “Y-yeah,” Moriarty agrees.

“Good,” Moran says. He starts to prepare the smaller man carefully. Moriarty doesn't rush him as much, in more pain than usual.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Moran commands.

“I'm short, not fragile,” Moriarty snaps.

Sebastian slaps the aching bottom without hesitation and the brunet beneath him winces openly. “I'm in charge right now boss, remember?”

Moriarty sighs. “Fine. It hurts now, surprisingly enough, but I'd still like you to impale me.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Moran purrs, and moves up to four fingers.

Moriarty groans. “Fuck me, will you?”

“Are you not sore enough already?” Sebastian asks archly.

Moriarty hesitates then admits reluctantly, “Yes...”

Sebastian bites the smaller man's shoulder lightly through his suit. “Then be patient.”

“What is it with you and patience?” Moriarty whines.

“I'm a sniper, I'm full of patience,” Moran replies, “and besides, I spend all my time with you; I have to be patient.”

“I'm not even arguing because I want your prick, this is me being patient,” Moriarty states dryly.

Sebastian chuckles appreciatively. “Alright, that deserves a good pounding.”

“Finally,” Moriarty drawls in approval.

Sebastian withdraws his fingers and pushes in slowly, careful of Moriarty's aching cheeks.

“Not fragile,” the brunet reminds him.

Moran snaps his hips fiercely and is gratified by the resultant whimper. “Sure about that, are you?”

“Tender,” Moriarty grumbles.

“Yes, so stop complaining and accept you're getting it slow and gentle today,” Moran retorts. “I doubt you want to start sobbing during.”

“I don't-”

Sebastian braces on the desk as though about to thrust hard, and makes a pointed noise at his employer's flinch.

The blond starts to rock his hips slowly, and Moriarty begins to pant. Sebastian teases moans from the brunet's mouth.

Sebastian takes it steadily, paying devout focus to Moriarty's prostate and how the soundly spanked man unravels under the attention.

For all the coupling is careful, Moriarty's orgasm hits him harshly and he comes with a scream.

Sebastian feels something tighten near his stomach but glances around to check the door.

“What are you waiting for?” the brunet mumbles. “Fill me up.”

Moran shivers. It's the first time Moriarty has directly acknowledged, never mind encouraged, Sebastian's own pleasure. The blond obeys quickly, delighted by the prompting.


	4. Chapter 4

Moriarty glowers on the way home at the unpleasantness of sitting on his raw, bruising skin, but more than once Sebastian catches the corners of the man's mouth curled up in satisfaction. When they get inside Moriarty splits off and without comment retreats to his room coldly.

Sebastian's own lips twitch. He is in no doubt that his employer will be sleeping on his stomach tonight.

Sebastian feels less smug the following morning when he enters the kitchen to discover Moriarty has prepared food for more than himself.

The brunet gives Sebastian a look that makes the blond deeply apprehensive. “There's too much. Take what you like.”

Sebastian tries to smile, but the weak expression quickly fades from nerves. “You on the menu?” he teases.

Moriarty gives him a disgruntled look. “I'm not your toy, Moran.”

Sebastian frowns softly. “Never said you were.”

Moriarty shrugs and moves his food around his plate. He's standing at the counter. “You'd be missing more than just your tongue if you had.”

“Well you're in a pleasant mood this morning,” Sebastian says dryly. “Too sore to sleep?”

Moriarty's head flies upward. His gaze is deadly.

Sebastian sighs. “Will you relax? There's only us here, and if you didn't believe I respected you then you wouldn't let me live.”

“Don't forget it,” Moriarty growls.

“I won't,” Sebastian mutters. “Surely it must be tiring being so prickly all the time?”

“Feeding you is 'prickly'?” Moriarty queries.

Sebastian purses his lips. “Pretty sure it's poisoned, boss.”

Moriarty grins and takes a bite.

Sebastian watches him strangely. “You're not coming down with anything, are you? You never eat in the morning.”

“I don't get sick,” Moriarty states a little scathingly.

Sebastian raises his brows. “Oh sorry, of course, the great Moriarty transcends such plebeian mortal trappings.”

“Whereas you, Moran, are a human and a germ factory; if you dare to get sick you will not be staying here.”

Sebastian splutters incredulously. “Sure thing, boss.”

“Shut up and eat Moran,” Moriarty commands.

Sebastian looks at the food with distrust, but sighs and sits down with a fork.

It is poisoned. As he heaves his insides into the toilet and curses his life, Sebastian surmises the breakfast to have been laced with Ipecac or something similarly vile (which is typically the _cure_ for ingesting poison).

Moriarty appears at the doorframe, leaning his slim shoulder against it as he surveys Moran's misery with cool detachment.

“Don't think that you mean anything to me,” the brunet bites. “Any time I bore of you… you're gone.”

Sebastian looks up and risks a glare, but Moriarty merely curls his lip and saunters off.

Sebastian is violently shaken by another compulsion to vomit.

Moran spends a day and a half sick and sore, for the most part entirely unacknowledged by Moriarty. The rest of the second day, Sebastian sleeps.

On the third day, Sebastian feels strong enough to stalk through to Moriarty's room. “You know that stuff could have stopped my heart.”

Moriarty is lying on his side curled around his laptop, still too marked to be seen outside. He sneers at Moran's entrance. “I am aware; you are not particularly difficult to replace.”

Sebastian steps into the room and doesn't miss the way his employer tenses uneasily. “You can tell me that was a ploy to reassert dominance _that you hadn't lost in the first place_ , but it feels to me a whole lot like you were trying to provoke me.”

Moriarty regards him for a beat. “I don't pay you to have feelings, Moran. And if I chose to give you reminders of your place that is my right. I own you.”

Moran gives him a cold look. “I'm not much good to you when I'm almost giving myself concussion pouring my insides out of my throat.”

Moriarty purses his lips. “What charming imagery. You could be a writer,” he drawls sarcastically.

“And you _could_ tone down the reckless, mad fuck vibe and treat me like a human being,” Sebastian argues.

Moriarty raises his brows. “Human life is worthless, Moran, except for the cost of ending it. Or hadn't you noticed our line of work?”

“I'm paid to protect yours,” Sebastian replies shortly.

Moriarty sighs. “Did you want something? Because Daddy is actually rather busy with work here.”

Moran narrows his eyes. “It'll keep.”

Moriarty blinks and then frowns, leaning up on his elbows away from the laptop. “Excuse me? I am your employer, _your owner_ , and I am working right now, Moran.”

Sebastian glances at the screen, checking that he really isn't interrupting anything painfully urgent, and flips down the laptop lid pointedly.

“Have you lost your tiny fucking mind, Moran?” Moriarty roars.

“Entirely probable, working with you,” the blond answers coolly.

“That was a rhetorical question,” Moriarty snaps.

Sebastian makes a face and moves the laptop out of the way.

“Get out, Moran,” Moriarty warns.

The blond replies with a frosty look that makes the smaller man uneasy, and advances before Moriarty can do much about it. Sebastian drags his employer by the hips to the edge of the bed.

“What the fuck, Moran?” Moriarty protests. He kicks out, but the blond does not move away, instead tightening his grip warningly.

Moriarty glares up. “I will have you dipped in acid.”

Sebastian chuckles darkly, considering how his throat has felt for days. “Will you now?”

“Moran-”

Sebastian slaps the bruise across Moriarty's slightly swollen face. “Enough, boss.”

Moriarty's breath catches in his throat. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Pay attention, won't you?” Moran says dryly, reaching for the nervous brunet's belt buckle. “You played up by making me sick, _and_ you put yourself at risk by disabling the only guard inside your home, so I'm going to give you what you're evidently so desirous of.”

Moriarty tries to push Moran away with his feet. “I wasn't asking for anything, you imbecile.”

Moran makes a show of sighing and moves a large hand from the loosened buckle to Moriarty's damning physical interest.

“That doesn't prove _anything_ ,” Moriarty argues.

Sebastian meets his employer's dark gaze frankly. “Do you honestly want me to stop?”

Moriarty narrows his eyes and barks, “Of _course_ I want -” He breaks off and sighs. The brunet scowls in evident disgust at both himself and his troublesome employee, then he moves his pale hands to unzip himself.

Sebastian licks his lips slowly at the bewildering, exciting lack of fight. He waits for a trap.

Moriarty slips out of his suit trousers -who wears a suit to sit on their bed answering emails all day?- and reaches up to remove his tie. “I'm not paying you to stand there gawping.”

“You want me to undress?” Sebastian asks.

There is a hiss of fabric as Moriarty yanks the silk of his tie out from under his stiff collar. “Do you want to fuck me or not, Moran?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and starts undressing. “Since when was anything about what I want, boss?”

Moriarty bares his teeth. “Clever boy.”

Moran gives him a dry look and steps closer to help Moriarty out of his remaining clothing with more haste. The brunet flinches as Sebastian's hands run over his cheeks.

The blond eases his grip. “Still sore?”

Moriarty twists his neck a little as though debating whether to respond sarcastically, or at all. “You were thorough,” he says at last.

“Turn around,” Moran states softly.

Moriarty raises a skeptical brow in challenge. Sebastian spanks the small man's tender bottom sharply, drawing a hiss. “Did that sound like a question?” Moran barks.

Moriarty narrows his eyes. “I give the orders, not you.”

Sebastian takes a tight grip of his employer's chin. “And we both know that I am giving you exactly what you want, boss.” The blond lowers his head to the shorter man's ear. “You want me to tell you what to do for a while, and you want to obey me. But you're too proud or insecure to just say it.”

Moriarty elbows his bodyguard irritably. “I am _not_ insecure.”

Moran spins his employer around instantly and bends the slim frame over the mattress. He lands three harsh smacks which force Moriarty to whimper in pain.

“ _Stop_ lashing out at me,” Moran warns.

Moriarty kicks out weakly in defiance, then cries aloud from the force of Moran's punishing hand against his bruised bottom.

“Don't fight me,” says Sebastian. Moriarty stays still but his back is tense with resentment.

Sebastian runs his hot palm gently over Moriarty's aching skin which causes the brunet to shiver. “Now that you've been turned around,” Moran begins with a slight tease in his tone, “I want you to lift your hips for me. Is that going to happen the pain-free way, or am I going to have to force you?”

Moriarty lets out an annoyed huff of breath, but obeys stiffly.

“Thank you,” Moran states approvingly. Moriarty drops his head slightly to glare into the duvet.

Sebastian hooks his thumbs under Moriarty's waistband and pulls the elastic out and down, avoiding brushing the painful behind as much as possible. The smaller man draws closer to the bed as his lowered boxers expose his hot, sore skin to the air.

Moran tuts sympathetically at the sight before him. “You were right about 'thorough'.”

Moriarty glowers in exasperation. “Approve of your handiwork?” he asks the bedding.

Sebastian huffs out a soft, almost warm laugh. He kneads a throbbing buttock and admits, “You're certainly a pleasure to look at like this, but I'd suggest that it's in your best interest not to test me too much today.”

Moriarty does not deign to retort. His breathing is ragged from the handling.

Moran gives the aching skin a mild pat and steps away towards Moriarty's bedside drawer. The brunet glances up quickly. “What are you doing?” he demands.

Moran reaches inside for lube and holds it out for his employer to see.

Moriarty leans forwards on his elbows and tilts his head quizzically. “You've barely touched me.”

Sebastian gives him a frank look. “You need some time to heal before I give your arse the thrashing it deserves. Come here.”

Moriarty's dark eyes linger uncertainly on the blond for a moment then he pushes himself off of the bed and crosses over to the larger man.

Moran guides Moriarty closer with a large hand on the brunet's side. “Come here. On my lap.”

Moriarty purses his face distastefully. “I don't-”

Sebastian grips the smaller man's arm and pulls him awkwardly onto the bed. “Telling, not asking,” Moran chides, and swats Moriarty firmly.

“Watch it,” the brunet mutters.

Moran takes both of Moriarty's wrists and drags him close. “Less of the attitude. Your suit's off; you're mine right now.”

Moriarty swallows and his resultant glare does not quite reach Moran's stern blue eyes.

Sebastian pulls Moriarty's thighs apart, helping the smaller man take the weight from his sore bottom by straddling the blond.

Moran reaches a hand between them to stroke Moriarty's length. Brown eyes disappear beneath squeezed closed eyelids.

“If you could only learn to behave yourself I'd be taking this in my mouth right now,” Sebastian scolds.

Moriarty presses his lips together and tries to prevent his hips from bucking into the welcome contact. “Instead..?”

Moran gives him a squeeze, drawing out a short moan, then lets go and strokes the underside of Moriarty's balls with his knuckles.

“I'm gonna hold you close as I fuck you on my fingers then you're gonna ride me,” the blond declares.

Moriarty frowns and opens his eyes. “But I don't like-”

Sebastian tugs gently on the warm sack in his hands. “I know you don't,” he growls softly. “But you're being punished right now: you _poisoned_ me.”

“I'm unconvinced this is what was meant by 'keep your enemies close',” the brunet mutters.

“Get used to it,” Moran states. “You keep pushing me away like that after it was _your_ decision to draw me close, and I'll give you _exactly_ what you're really asking for.”

“I think your social skills are skewed,” Moriarty retorts.

Moran responds by taking his hand away and using it to deliver a painful spank. “What did I just tell you about pushing?”

Moriarty gives him a baleful look. “I don't do 'close' you moron.”

Moran dares to lift his chin confidently. “Not willingly, but you want it so bad I can _smell_ it from you.”

Dark eyes flash and Moriarty punches Moran hard in his smug mouth.

Sebastian catches both of his employer's thin wrists in one hand and pins the man against his broad chest for a spanking that makes Moriarty struggle and scream in anger, frustration, and pain. “What. Did. I. Tell. You?” Moran demands.

“I'll have your hands made into ornaments,” Moriarty spits bitterly.

Moran pinches the purple, welted bottom spitefully. “Don't you find this posturing a waste of time that could be spent with me pleasuring you? We both know without any doubt that if you didn't like this, didn't _want_ this, that I'd be dead by now. Horribly dead.”

“You will be,” Moriarty grumbles, but his voice is soft.

Moran sighs pointedly and leans forward. Moriarty tenses in anticipation of more pain, but the blond merely reaches for the lube again and squirts some onto his fingers.

“That's it?” Moriarty asks warily.

Sebastian hums in response and brings the gel to Moriarty's skin slowly to allow the brunet to aclimatise to the chill. The criminal squirms tensely at the touch and presses his palms up against the cool wall.

“I reckon holding you close as I get you panting and pushing onto my hand is going to sting your pride plenty, don't you?” Moran asks forthrightly.

Moriarty swallows. “I don't like this.”

“I don't care,” Sebastian states sternly. “And you're _lying_ , because your cock is dripping against my belly.”

“I can't help being hard when there's a finger pressing against my arse,” Moriarty argues.

Sebastian withdraws his hand and clears his throat pointedly when Moriarty instinctively twitches backwards to reclaim the touch.

“Any other clever remarks to share, or do you want me to push back into your willing little hole, boss?” Moran asks.

Moriarty growls softly. “Fingers,” he demands.

The blond smirks at him. “Then get your arms around my shoulders.”

Moriarty pulls back in alarm to look in Moran's face. “What?”

“You heard me, boss,” Sebastian replies. “Lying and complaining that you don't want what you _do_ is going to cost you. Every time you protest I'm going to take away what you like, and you're going to have to go against your instincts more and more to earn my touch back.”

Moriarty grabs Moran's hair roughly and hisses, “I am _not_ g-”

The blond pinches a welt on his employer's cheek making the irate man screw his eyes shut in discomfort. The grip on Sebastian's head loosens marginally.

“Yes you are,” Moran insists, “because that thing stabbing into me proves that the concept doesn't hardly put you at half-mast. And since you can't behave, you'll wrap your arms around my shoulders _and_ press your forehead into my neck.”

“I fucking won't,” the little brunet protests.

Moran spanks him hard. “Won't you? You want my teeth on your throat, boss, or are you gonna do as you're told? I'm offering you exactly what you want.”

Moriarty swallows and considers. Moran waits patiently, and feels stiff, hesitant hands drop to his broad, bare shoulders.

“That's better,” Moran states approvingly. “And the rest.”

Moriarty's fingers pinch into Moran's skin warningly but he crouches lower and reluctantly grazes the edge of his temple against Moran's warm neck.

The blond squirts out more lube and strokes teasingly up and down over Moriarty's pucker before pushing in smoothly. The brunet inhales deeply in approval.

Sebastian crooks his large hand and strokes two fingers in and out carefully.

“Three,” Moriarty blurts, slamming a hand against the wall and pushing back on his heels. “Now...”

Moran tugs his slippery fingers back out instantly. He nips the lobe of Moriarty's ear softly. 

The brunet stiffens. “What?”

“Hand, boss,” Moran prompts.

Moriarty sighs and shifts back into the dictated position. Sebastian nods in acknowledgement and adds three fingers slowly. The brunet wriggles into the contact.

Moran fucks the little bouncing ass thoroughly with his roving fingers and grins at his employer's approving groans and keens.

“You want my cock, boss?” Sebastian asks hoarsely.

“Yes!” Moriarty insists.

His bodyguard twists his hand teasingly. “You're gonna have to take four of my fingers first. You gonna open up nicely for me?”

“Just give me more, Moran,” Moriarty pants.

“You're so greedy,” Sebastian teases, but he quickly slides his hand away, grinning as his employer huffs at the loss, and lubes up further. He adds the awaited fourth finger and Moriarty hisses in approval, shoving his hips down hard on the pressure. “Well done, boss.”

The brunet huffs. “Don't patronise me, Moran.”

Sebastian stabs the man's prostate sharply. “Suit's off, boss,” he warns.

Moriarty juts his jaw grumpily. “I'm going to-”

“You're going to take my cock and enjoy it, is what you're going to do,” Moran interrupts.

The short man considers then nods. “Fine. Get on with it,” he pants.

Sebastian rolls his eyes but eases out his hand and rubs cool lube over his shaft quickly. He jabs up deep inside of Moriarty, raising his hips off of the mattress.

Moriarty yells out and slaps his palms against the wall. Moran stills instantly. “Boss...”

The brunet sighs and returns his hands. Sebastian pulls him close and rocks up deeply into him, prompting Moriarty to clutch the broad shoulders tightly.

“Are you going to set the pace or shall I?” Moran asks.

Moriarty blinks and considers for half a second. “Just fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

“Yes, boss,” Sebastian agrees, and pulls the smaller man down _hard_ to bounce him off of his bucking hips.

“Fuck,” Moriarty whispers, and grips the larger man tightly. 

“This what you want?” Moran pants.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Moriarty agrees.

The blond shifts a little to whisper in the short man's ear, “Didn't I promise I'd give you exactly what you want?”

Moriarty stills for a moment, but then scowls and shoves down on his bodyguard's punishing cock. “Fine. You're not ...” he breaks off as a thrust takes his breath away, “not entirely useless...”

Sebastian risks a cheeky kiss to his employer's flushed throat and continues to buck his hips with force. “I thought so.”

Moriarty growls and leans into the contact. “Still… still going to… skin you...”

“Don't make me stop now,” Moran warns sternly. The brunet groans exasperatedly but pushes his head against the blond appeasingly.

Sebastian grins softly and keeps fucking. He groans loudly as he feels his employer jerk and start to tighten around him.

Moriarty chuckles dryly. “Really are… just for my pleasure… are… aren't you?” he teases.

“Damn… _fucking_ … right,” Moran agrees.

Moriarty quivers and pushes back irregularly as his climax rocks through him. His short nails leave bleeding lines down Sebastian's back.

Moran eases his thrusting a little as warm jets coat his pecs and chin. “May… may I?” he asks.

Moriarty considers, eyes a little dazed. “...Yeah, okay. Yeah.”

Moran pulls the smaller man close. “Thanks.” He pummels out his own release swiftly then melts against the headboard.

Moriarty does not move from his bodyguard's lap. “Fuck,” he whispers.

The blond turns his head and smiles tiredly. “Wasn't so bad, was it?”

Moriarty glares but there isn't much heat in it. “Next time don't bother with all the humiliating crap and just fuck me exactly like that. Deep and fucking hard.”

Sebastian sighs. “That 'humiliating crap' is the most terrifying thing a person in your position can do, and you're a filthy little thrill seeker. You don't need to pretend you don't like it with me.”

The dark eyes fix on him unreadably. “You had best drop that opinion of yourself if you want to live.”

“Christ, can't you just enjoy your afterglow without having to remind me who you are?” Moran complains. “ _I know who you are_. You pay me to please you.”

Moriarty narrows his eyes. “You call that 'pleasing'?” he sneers.

Sebastian raises his brows and smears a streak of his employer's seed from his broad chest. “Oh of course, you clearly hated it all.”

Moriarty's expression flashes warningly and he turns away.


	5. Chapter 5

Moriarty wakes up sore, with the employee responsible curled close beside him.

Moran is interesting. He is not stupid per se -might even be exceptionally observant- but his reasoning is odd. The handsome blond is currently sleeping with an expression smooth of worry as though perfectly at ease in his perilous position.

Moriarty shifts up onto his elbows and makes a face when his bodyguard doesn't stir instinctively. The man could get his throat slit like this.

Moriarty reaches out and brushes his fingertips down Moran's dirty blond stubble and along the ticking pulse of his throat.

Moran does not bolt upright. His thick skull shifts ever so slightly closer to Moriarty's side of the bed.

No wonder he's an _ex-_ soldier with reflexes like this. “Moran, you imbecile,” Moriarty snaps.

Sebastian's lashes finally flicker reluctantly. “Wha'sup?”

“You can go now,” Moriarty declares. “I'm awake.”

Swallowing a sigh, Moran begins to pull himself up to leave the very comfortable bed. As he stretches, Sebastian catches sight of the time displayed on his wristwatch. He pauses.

Moriarty scowls suspiciously. “What now, Moran?”

“It's well before five, boss, get the fuck back to sleep,” the blond grumbles firmly.

Moriarty blinks in surprise before glaring. “I told you to-”

Moran scoops his arm under his employer's rib cage and tugs the man back down to the sheets. “You give the orders when you're suited and booted, boss. Right now you need to sleep so shove your posturing and do as you're told.”

Moriarty's expression darkens and his limbs feel taunt against the bodyguard's body. “I don't think you quite understand your place, Moran.”

Sebastian sighs and lightly swats the smaller man's painful flesh. The blond leans in close enough to easily take Moriarty's throat in his teeth. “My place is right here, and I'm still pissed off at you for poisoning me, so I wouldn't push it if I was you.”

Moriarty's shoulders curl back uncomfortably. Eyes narrowed stormily, he reaches under his pillow for his gun again.

Moran sighs and yanks the slight man onto his chest. Pinning Moriarty close, Sebastian warns, “Don't even think about it. What have I told you about hurting me?”

Moriarty tries to pull away. “You know I fucking hate… Let go, damn it!”

Moran gives an unyielding look. “Too bad. Get the fuck back to sleep, boss.”

Moriarty punches the strong chest beneath him. “You're a fucking employee, Moran.”

Sebastian gives an exaggerated sigh. “ _What_ did I tell you about hitting me?” he barks.

Moriarty tenses warily. “You don't give the orders,” he responds sullenly.

Moran grasps the back of Moriarty's head and tugs the dark hair to expose his neck. Biting down possessively, Sebastian sucks hard as Moriarty tries to jerk away.

“You're going to have to start wearing make up to work if you can't learn to behave,” Moran growls.

Moriarty reaches up quickly to the wet, throbbing ache on the side of his throat. “I fucking hate when you do that!”

Moran has the audacity to roll his eyes. “That's why it's a punishment, Clever Dick.”

Moriarty glares. “You're going to eat your entrails.”

Moran snatches his employer's hair again. “Enough. You're already sore, so quit whilst you can and get back to sleep. I want to eat _you_ in the morning but I certainly won't be if you keep up this bullshit.”

Moriarty tugs against the contact a little, feeling irritable. “I don't want you to suck my cock; I want you to stop hitting me.”

Sebastian chuckles darkly. “Well now you understand a little of how I feel.”

Moriarty huffs but slumps down against Moran's warm, slightly fuzzed chest. “I don't _care_ how you feel.”

Sebastian sighs, but eases the grip on the brunet, his thick fingers rubbing slowly over the sore patch where he had yanked Moriarty's scalp. “Oh, I know, boss.”

Moriarty digs his chin a little into the flesh near Moran's collarbone, smirking softly as the blond narrows his blue eyes.

“Sleep, I said,” Sebastian rumbles, the low gravel of his voice vibrating his chest under Moriarty's slighter form.

“Why do you care?” Moriarty mutters, shifting his head to the side comfortably. He tenses a moment later: he must be sleepier than he thought to voice a question like that.

Moran rolls his eyes. “You pay me to care, remember?” he responds, but his fingers trace a gentle path down Moriarty's back that suggests something else.

The brunet sighs and pulls away from the comfortable chest.

Moran catches his arm. “Where do you think you're going, boss?”

Moriarty doesn't bat away the touch. “Going to sleep.”

Sebastian pulls the slight man back down. “You're sleeping here.”

Moriarty meets his gaze for a moment, dark eyes flickering in an unreadable manner, then flops back down with a blank expression.

Moran blinks at the lack of fight. He trails one hand soothingly along his employer's skin, the other still curled around Moriarty's lower back.

Moriarty squirms almost imperceptibly. “Quit it,” he murmurs. “Go to sleep.”

Moran nods, surprised, and rests his hand between the brunet's thin shoulders. Before long Moriarty's breathing has deepened in sleep. Sebastian brushes his fingers up lightly against the warm hair at the nape of his employer's neck, and then settles more comfortably against the pillows.

Moriarty almost falls out the bed that morning upon waking to find himself not only upon his employee's naked chest, but wrapped in the bodyguard's thick, warm arms.

That wasn't…

Moriarty rubs his face in his hand and feels his throat heat a little from self disgust. Pitiful.

The dark-haired man drags himself out from under Moran's heavy grip, but cannot avoid blue eyes focusing on him as a result.

“Everythin' alright?” the blond sleepily asks. A frown mars the middle of his dewy forehead.

Moriarty curls his lip disparagingly and rubs at his own eyes. “Get up, will you?”

Moran regards his employer with an intensity that makes the smaller man grit his teeth. “You want tea?” Sebastian asks at last.

Moriarty considers for a moment then nods curtly.

“Alright,” Moran responds mildly. He pulls himself up from the bed and disappears from the room.

Moriarty rests on his knees and rubs at the aching part of his neck. Flinching away from his fingertips, the man remembers back to the sensation of Moran's teeth digging in with mocking possessiveness. Moriarty sighs to himself and acknowledges that he _ought_ to remove every last tooth in the bastard's mouth with a pair of pliers.

Instead, Moriarty clambers groggily off of his mattress and shuffles to his shower. Turning the spray to scalding, the man shoves his head under the spray and crosses his arms, flinching as water reaches his broken skin. Steam rises and Moriarty regards the ugly pinkness of his overheated skin. The ache in his muscles starts to fade and eventually Moriarty grabs for the soap, scrubbing at dried ejaculate and lube. White marks brand his arms where he had previously gripped them.

Eventually Moriarty starts to feel lightheaded and cools the spray of water.

He feels better, but still uneasy. Still, at least the mirror is too fogged up to show how bruised and marked he has allowed himself to become.

Moran has returned with the promised tea by the time Moriarty wraps a towel around himself and stalks back through to his bedroom.

“Need anything else?” the blond asks.

Moriarty regards him for a moment. “I'd kill for a blowjob right now.”

A look of shock spreads across Moran's face and he laughs warmly in surprise. He places Moriarty's drink beside the bed and pads over to drop to his knees before the shorter man.

Moriarty lets his damp towel drop and takes a grip of Moran's hair.

The blond is swift to take his employer in his mouth, but slow to get on with it. Instead he teases: kissing, licking, and nipping the surrounding skin playfully. Moriarty tolerates the game for a while before yanking back Moran's head, opening the bodyguard's mouth with a swipe of his thumb, and pushing himself forcefully inside.

Moran doesn't quite choke, but grips Moriarty's hip firmly to prevent the likelihood. The blond sucks diligently, and Moriarty squeezes his eyes closed, considering how reasonable it might be to grant Moran his life on the agreement that this is a regular duty.

The brunet hisses in pleasure.

Sebastian grins around his employer's cock and gets to work.

Eventually Moriarty's grip changes, fingers pressing in desperately. The twitching of the small man's hips and the soft pants leaving those fuckable lips thrills Moran. He buries himself ever closer, slightly crooked nose squishing against Moriarty's warm skin, and feels the tingle beneath it which screams that the smaller man is about to…

Burning liquid hits the back of Sebastian's throat in five fierce spurts and Moriarty's legs quiver. He grips Moran's shoulders as he waits for his heart rate to return to normal then pulls out of the talented mouth nonchalantly.

“Good job, Sebastian.”

Smirking at the blond's look of shock, Moriarty steps away and picks up his mug. He sips the cool, sweet tea as he opens his closet and regards the day's clothing options.

Moran remains on the floor.

Moriarty throws a shirt and trousers onto his bed. “That was a dismissal, Moran.”

The blond looks around instantly, and the habitual use of his surname seems to shake the daze from his limbs. He rises to his feet.

Moriarty pauses and takes another sip of tea. “Moran.”

“Yes sir?”

Moriarty's head sways a little as though in two minds whether to speak. “I need to catch up on emails this morning. So I won't have need of your services for a few hours. If you should like to take a break and go out.”


	6. Chapter 6

Moriarty is still working away quietly on his laptop when Sebastian returns. By evening the slight man still had not left his room.

Sebastian considers for a while, then risks popping his head around the door.

Moriarty glances up questioningly, mouth still frowning at the screen as he types away.

“You want food?” the blond asks. “It's getting late.”

Moriarty stills for a moment and rubs his grey face, looking tired. “No. Too busy.”

“Couple of hours?” Moran suggests.

His employer purses his lips and glances at the laptop screen in assessment. “Probably not.”

Sebastian sighs. “I'll make you a tea.”

Moriarty blinks in what seems to be honest surprise. “Thanks,” he mutters. He drops his attention back to the emails pouring in.

Sebastian wanders through to the kitchen and wonders whether his employer has ever thanked him before.

It's not bloody good for him not to eat. No wonder Moriarty's so small. With a small frown Sebastian shoves some biscuits on a plate and carries it through with the tea.

Moriarty nods briefly at Sebastian's return. His lips twitch at the biscuits before he quickly pulls the hot tea towards himself gratefully.

“Need anything else?” Sebastian asks.

Moriarty shakes his head and moves closer to his laptop. “I'm fine, Moran.”

Sebastian nods and goes about his business quietly so as not to distract his stressed looking employer.

Hours pass and Moriarty still does not leave the room.

Sebastian sighs and knocks on the bedroom door.

Moriarty grunts questioningly in response. Sebastian enters and notes the biscuits are at least eaten. Good.

“You need food. What do you want?” Moran inquires.

Moriarty frowns but the expression is less menacing when he looks so drained. “I told you, I'm too busy.”

The blond squares his shoulders. “It's my job to look after you, remember?”

Moriarty narrows his dark eyes ineffectually. “Leave me alone please.”

“You need to eat,” Sebastian scolds.

Moriarty pinches the bridge of his pale nose. “A few days without eating won't kill me.”

Moran crosses his arms. “No, but it will make your brain sluggish. Are you going to tell me what you're having or am I making that decision for you?”

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “Stop fussing you moron.”

Sebastian sighs and crosses towards the bed, trying not to smirk in amusement as his employer tenses warily. Moran pushes down the lid of the computer firmly.

“You need a break; come on.”

“I don't have the energy to fuck,” Moriarty mutters, using the knuckles of both hands to rub his tired eyes.

Sebastian chuckles softly. “I can tell. But staring at a screen for that long is still bad for you. Move.”

To the blond's surprise, Moriarty merely slides off of the bed and drifts towards him. Sebastian leads his employer into the kitchen.

“What do you want?” Sebastian asks.

“I don't care,” Moriarty mutters.

The bigger man regards him. “Go sit down on the couch,” Moran orders mildly. “I'll make you something and bring it over.”

The brunet grunts softly and shuffles off obediently. He flops down listlessly and curls up.

Sebastian examines the contents of the kitchen and opts for something quick and nutritious over anything fancy. Moriarty is already dozing on the couch by the time the blond carries hot food over.

The smaller man rouses meekly at Moran's nudging. “What?”

Sebastian sits down beside his employer and holds out the bowl carefully. “Time to eat.”

Moriarty gives him a sleepy, unconvinced look, but his nostrils flare a little at the appetising scent and he edges close. “Fine.”

Sebastian watches with an odd sort of interest as the small man eats. Ordinarily Moriarty's expression is schooled blank, but right now it purely registers as tired. The purple under his eyes is almost pretty and the sleepy crinkle between them somehow endearing.

Putting warm mouthfuls in his stomach seems to wake Moriarty's body enough to realise it is hungry, and he begins to shovel down forkfuls with evident need. It makes Sebastian feel a small glow of usefulness in his chest: Moriarty wouldn't have eaten anything without the prodding.

Eventually the brunet pushes away the near empty bowl and slumps against the arm of the couch.

“You'll be comfier in bed,” Sebastian points out.

Moriarty shakes his head marginally. “Too tired,” he mutters.

The muscled blond purses his lips. “C'mere.”

“For?” his employer mumbles, reluctantly raising himself just a fraction.

Moran uses the movement as leverage and lifts the slight man without too much difficulty. Moriarty uses the mildest glare Sebastian's ever seen before slumping his forehead against the warmth of Moran's neck.

Sebastian tries not to smile. Instead he tenses his jaw in an effort to stiffen the corners of his mouth and carries Moriarty to bed.

The brunet slumps down as Moran moves the laptop out of harm's way. Sebastian glances around at him. “No,” the blond warns with a shred of amusement, “shirt and trousers off first, then you can sleep.”

Moriarty makes a disparaging noise.

Sebastian drops down onto the comfortable bed and reaches for expensive shirt buttons. “I promise you'll be more comfortable this way, Boss.”

“Tired,” Moriarty grumbles.

“I know, I know.” Moran strips the man swiftly and pulls down the duvet. 

Moriarty melts onto the sheet. His eyes are closed and his breathing even by the time Sebastian has the duvet pulled up around the pale man's jaw.

Moriarty almost looks harmless like this: long, thick eyelashes brush his cheeks contrasting starkly with his skin and the tightness around his brows lessened. He's… oddly attractive.

' _Just a job_ ,' Sebastian reminds himself. He closes his eyes and inhales Moriarty's expensive scent for longer than reasonable. ' _Idiot_.'

Moran pulls himself up from Moriarty's mattress and pads softly out of the dangerous man's bedroom. The blond squeezes the bridge of his scarred nose. Something's stirring within that he had best ignore.

He's only Moriarty's toy after all. Best not get too attached.


	7. Chapter 7

It takes days for the marks on Moriarty's face and neck to fade sufficiently for him to return to the office. All the same, he works hard, spending punishingly long hours on his laptop and phone.

Sebastian's relieved when Moriarty finally leaves the house. Can't possibly be good for him being cooped up in front of screens all day.

Moriarty returns to the office like a whirlwind, leaving terror in his wake. He's clearly amused and perhaps just a tad relieved to be back in a position of frightening his underlings. Sebastian watches with a mixture of wry amusement and a sense of uneasiness.

Moriarty hasn't had a strop in days. He's practically _due_.

Strangely, although Moriarty terrorises the staff and anyone on the other side of his phone, he seems mainly focused on work. The dark-haired man eventually fixes Sebastian with a look.

“Is something the matter, Moran?”

Sebastian wonders whether to be truthful is foolish but succumbs quickly to the stern rise of Moriarty's eyebrows.

“Kind of expected you to play silly buggers and have me bend you over the desk, truth be told,” the blond admits.

Moriarty curls his lip in response but his eyes glint. “Think that's all you're good for? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm rather terribly busy today. _Someone_ kept me away from the office for a while.”

Sebastian bites his lip, suddenly feeling sort of guilty. “Sorry, boss.”

Moriarty looks mildly surprised by the apology but hums. “Mm, you should be. Terror.”

Sebastian slopes over to a nearby chair. “Anything I can do to help?”

Moriarty chuckles unflatteringly. “No. Just look pretty and try to keep me alive. Thatta boy.”

The blond rolls his eyes but settles into the seat and eyes the window, vents and doorway skeptically. He listens absently as his employer makes calls, not particularly focusing on the words, but just the familiarity of Moriarty's voice.

It's after five before the dark-haired man affords his bodyguard further attention.

“Moran, cease mooning.”

Sebastian turns around with a mildly disgruntled expression. “I wasn't.”

“Don't lie to me; my time is valuable,” Moriarty sighs, switching down his monitor.

Sebastian juts out his jaw. He is certainly not pouting now.

“Come here,” Moriarty commands.

The bodyguard stands with a mixture of reluctance (another punishment or threat, really?) and eagerness (oh God, he's hooked to attention from his boss, isn't he?)

Moriarty turns his chair to the side as Moran steps around the desk. “Dear me, you look terribly frustrated. Have I bored you today? Disappointed we haven't personally shot anyone?”

Sebastian stretches his neck and arms to get rid of the stiffness. “Course not. Quiet's good.”

Moriarty gives him a knowing look. He stands and brushes the creases out of his suit. “Did I not just tell you not to lie to me, Moran?”

Sebastian shifts a little on his feet. He's within distance for Moriarty to slap (or kick or punch) him.

Instead Moriarty taps the side of Sebastian's face. “Shall I give you a reward for behaving so patiently, I wonder?”

Sebastian bites his lip. “Why do I get the feeling you're going to staple me to your desk, boss?”

Moriarty laughs in genuine delight. “Hmm, not today. Perhaps I'll try the next time I want to _push_ you.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Oh, you're being a _good_ boy today, are you?”

Moriarty reaches up and pulls Moran down to eye level by the man's inferior tie. “Stop talking and have at me, moron. Or else I might remember I should be cross with you.”

The blond blinks but immediately reaches for his employer. The man smells and tastes so good and-

Moriarty pushes at Moran with a small growl of annoyance. “I've _told_ you not to mark my neck.”

Sebastian hums in acknowledgement and laves the tempting skin with his tongue instead. The blond's brow crinkles in confusion when Moriarty does not complain about the almost affectionate nuzzling.

The boss grips Sebastian's hair and softly pants, “I'm wearing too many _clothes_ , Moran...”

The bodyguard smiles against Moriarty's neck and reaches down to unfasten the offending trousers. Shoving them down, he whispers in his employer's ear, “Can't have that, can we, boss?”

Moriarty shivers in response. He fists both the back of Sebastian's scalp and the back of the large man's suit jacket.

“How about I suck you now then take you home and screw you properly?” the blond suggests.

Moriarty gives a brief nod. “I'm amenable.” He shifts his hips so Moran can expose his already hard cock.

“You're eager,” Sebastian comments, dropping to his knees calmly.

“Get on with it,” Moriarty hisses softly.

The blond glances up, judging whether to tease, but his employer looks rather het up and insistent. Moran licks the red tip near his face then takes Moriarty possessively in his mouth.

A hand drops to Sebastian's head, not tugging or pushing, but resting there almost fondly. The bodyguard tries not to focus on that too much and instead gets to work on making the slighter man cum hard down his throat.

Moriarty pats him afterwards. “Good.”

Sebastian wipes his mouth and stands. He doesn't want to examine why the praise makes his chest swell, or how he feels about Moriarty taking pleasure from him without being a psychotic brat first.

If the brunet discerns any of Sebastian's thoughts he does not comment upon them on the drive home. He steps through to the master bedroom without even a glance over his shoulder.

Moran hesitates. Moriarty did say he wanted to fuck when they got home, right?

“Stop dallying, imbecile, or I'll start without you,” Moriarty calls through the doorway.

Sebastian feels a wave of relief and follows obediently. “Don't you dare; that arse is mine!”

Moriarty smirks and undresses himself. “Come claim it then.”

Moran quirks a brow. “You're not even going to argue?”

Moriarty shrugs. “You've never seen me in a good mood before?”

Sebastian grins. “I guess not. Did you really miss the office that bad?”

Moriarty snorts. “I just enjoyed being out of the house without purple ringing my neck.”

The blond before him grins and grips his employer's chin teasingly. “What, you don't want more?”

“Moran, bruise my throat again and I'll choke you on your own eviscerated organs.”

Sebastian bites Moriarty's ear. “Well that's romantic,” he drawls.

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “I'm not the man to come to if you want _romance_ , darling.”

Moran smirks and pushes the smaller man down on the bed. “That's okay, I'm happy to just tear your arse apart.”

Moriarty purses his lips. “There will be no _tearing_ ,” he sniffs. “Just a very thorough pounding.”

Sebastian grins and kisses Moriarty's back. “Yes boss.”

The brunet rolls his eyes as the larger man mouths a path down his slim back. “Really, again with the kissing, Moran?”

“Do you want me hard enough to fuck you or not?” Sebastian admonishes. “I like to kiss.”

“I'm fairly certain I could inspire you without them,” Moriarty drawls.

“Oh yeah?” Moran smirks.

Moriarty rolls onto his back and starts to touch himself languidly. “What do you think?” he teases.

“Fuck. Yeah… that works,” the bodyguard responds. He dives quickly for the lube and squeezes an ample amount over his fingers.

Moriarty's eyes glitter in amusement. “Oh, no foreplay now?” he teases.

Moran smirks and bites the smaller man's thigh. “Nope. I think I'll listen to you for once and focus on _fucking you hard_.”

Moriarty grins and spreads his pale legs further. Sebastian prepares him quickly and feels surprised when the short legs wrap themselves around him.

“You're eager,” he teases.

Moriarty gives him a vaguely sour look, but there isn't much disapproval in his voice as he mutters, “Shut up and fuck me.”

Sebastian nips the smaller man's jutting collarbone then lines himself up. “Right away, boss.”

Shouting at people all day must have done wonders for Moriarty's mood, because he grips Sebastian hard and cants his hips like a wild, possessed thing. Moran would almost find it funny if he wasn't so occupied with the breathtaking sight taking his cock.

Moriarty scratches a line down his bodyguard's back with short nails. “ _Fuck_ me,” he pants chidingly.

Sebastian bites his lip and tells himself that's not the hottest scolding Moriarty's ever given him and starts to power into the handsome little psychopath.

Moriarty struggles and screams and groans and bites and scratches, and Sebastian is certain he never wants to do anything else for as long as he lives. “What's-gotten- _into_ -you?”

Moriarty yanks Moran's short hair and pulls the blond's earlobe with his teeth. “Your… big… cock,” he pants, sounding rather pleased with himself.

“All yours,” Sebastian promises, then blinks and wonders why the fuck that chose to jump from his mouth.

Moriarty doesn't seem to mind. “Fuck, _MORE_ ,” he groans.

Moran obeys, uncertain whether the request is for more speed or force, and therefore providing both. Moriarty makes noises of ecstasy beneath him. Hot lines of pain sear down Sebastian's muscled back as his employer gouges approving scratches.

“You're a fucking animal,” Moran whispers, growling softly and biting the little hellbeast's shoulder.

Moriarty keens and scrabbles to pull the huge man closer. “Fuck me Moran, fuck me… Feels so… _fuck_.”

Sebastian grins and fists the smaller man's cock. “Not so… wordy now, are you?”

Moriarty roars at the touch and bucks wilder still, but yet somehow manages to mutter, “Verbose. _Effort_.”

Sebastian hammers his hips hard into the little brat. “Ah… too much… for you?”

Moriarty gives him a tiny glare then scrunches up his face. “Don't, I'm going to...”

Moran bites his lip and increases the intensity of pumping his bed partner's dick. “Going to what, boss?” he teases.

Moriarty doesn't even seem annoyed. He merely sweats and pants and twists and writhes and fuck can Sebastian just burn this image into his brain forever.

Moriarty ejaculates with a roaring intensity his bodyguard has never seen before, and Sebastian cannot help but cum himself from the astounding vision.

Moriarty flops back onto the pillows as Moran rolls off of him shakily. “Good job, soldier,” the brunet praises, then brings one hand to his mouth to lick away blood and concertinas of shredded skin.

“You're not even real,” Sebastian mumbles dazedly. His employer is apparently legendary for all the wrong reasons.

But at least that means no one's informed enough to try to share the hellcat.

The pair lie in silence for a while, dazed, exhausted, and waiting for their pulses to return to something like normal.

“I'm going for a shower,” Moriarty announces eventually. Light catches his sweat, making him glisten as he gets up and slides off of the bed.

Sebastian stretches. “Want me to join you, or..?”

The shorter man gives him an arch look and walks away. Sebastian sighs and licks warm bodily fluids from himself, fancying he can taste a difference from his own and his employer's.

A flicker of surprise and amusement lights his eyes when he returns to see Moran still lying on his bed.

“Staying the night, are you?” Moriarty comments calmly. He pulls clean pyjamas from a drawer and slips them on.

Sebastian watches him quietly. “You don't mind tonight?”

The brunet shrugs and climbs onto the mattress. “Don't snore and don't take up the entire bed.”

The muscled blond nods and slides over a bit. “I can manage that.”

Moriarty spares him an unreadable look before dropping down beside him and settling in to sleep.

Sebastian wakes uneasily and casts his gaze around his dark surroundings wondering what has pulled him from his dreams.

It quickly becomes apparent that the restless body beside him is not having a peaceful slumber. It twists Sebastian's stomach in a way he does not want to examine.

The blond reaches out to shake the thrashing man's shoulder, half expecting to get punched in the face for doing so.

His employer doesn't rouse.

“Moriarty. Moriarty! _M_! Wake up!”

Moriarty stares at the blond for a few long moments, wide eyed and breathing heavily. He leans back on his elbows tensely. “If you can't sleep beside me you are welcome to sleep somewhere else.” 

Sebastian presses his lips together for a moment. “You… didn't seem like you were enjoying your dream.”

Moriarty sighs and rubs his eyes, looking mostly grown up and exasperated although there's a tightness to his features that suggests he's more rattled than he intends to acknowledge. “Sebastian, in our line of business you can't expect not to have the odd nightmare. Comes with the territory. You don't need to be _worried_.”

Moran looks unconvinced. “S'my job to look after you,” he responds stubbornly.

Moriarty lies back down on his somewhat sweat-dampened pillows and gives his bodyguard a mildly incredulous look. “Yes, _from actual threats_. You can't protect me from my mind, Moran. Christ.”

“I can try,” Sebastian replies a little surlily. He grips his employer carefully and pulls the slighter man towards him.

Moriarty scowls and elbows the blond as he is deposited onto the warm, broad chest. “What is it with you and all your _cuddling_ , Moran?”

“Your heart rate always relaxes from it,” Sebastian states calmly.

Moriarty arches a brow. “What are you on about? It's accelerated.”

The blond wriggles under the other man's weight to get comfortable. “Speeds up when you're protesting then slows once you accept it. Still counts.”

Moriarty sighs and rests on his forearms upon Moran's defined, warm pecs. “I _read_ your background. Absent mother and abusive father; sent to boarding school as soon as you were old enough; joined the army as soon as you were educated. Where the hell did you pick up all your touchy feely nonsense?”

Sebastian tenses. “How the fuck is that stuff in my record?”

“I'm thorough, Moran,” Moriarty replies. “Now answer my question.”

Sebastian hesitates for a moment then answers, “From the staff, I suppose? I had a few nice nannies and maids growing up. Then at school I was aware positive touch was something I wasn't getting a lot of.”

Moriarty relaxes a little into his bodyguard. “Maybe you would have done if you weren't constantly being caned for infractions.”

Moran clenches his jaw slightly. “Why did you look my school records over so 'thoroughly'?”

The brunet regards him. “Useful information on your character: you rebelled a lot at school, but less in the forces, where your talents were better utilised. Your infractions _there_ tended to sprout from boredom.”

Sebastian chuckles dryly and regards his employer with a guarded fondness. “That's not a problem I face here.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes; I'm hard work. But I do pay you well for your time.”

The blond leans back a little, shifting his arm to prevent Moriarty sliding off of his chest. “S'not just about the money though. I like working for you… when you're not being an exasperating fuck.”

Moriarty smirks and pinches Sebastian's scarred nose. “Is that any way to speak to your employer?”

The bodyguard smiles a little at the rare touch. “My _employer_ ,” he emphasises with a rise of his hips, “keeps me around purely to ride my cock, so I think I can be a little frank.”

Moriarty gives him an arch look. “If that was your only use to me I'd hire a whore not a bodyguard.”

Moran's lips twitch. “Oh, got you a man who can do both, have you?”

Moriarty blinks dumbly, and for a moment Sebastian gets the feeling the more repressed man might be amused. “Shut up and go to sleep, moron,” the brunet says at last.


	8. Chapter 8

Sebastian immediately feels uneasy as he senses Moriarty approach almost silently. The blond squares his shoulders defensively and looks up from bulling his boots with a strip of selvyt cloth.

“Moran,” Moriarty purrs dangerously.

Sebastian swallows. “What? I put newspaper down.” 

The deadly smaller man smirks in a version of amusement that Sebastian does not anticipate. Moriarty seems to find his bodyguard's reactions dryly amusing, and fuck if the blond understands why.

“Good to know you're house trained,” Moriarty comments.

Sebastian heaves a breath and tries to settle his nerves. It's no good letting this little madman psyche him out. “Do you want something from me, boss?”

Moriarty examines his manicured nails. That damned amused smirk still plays over his little face. “I dare say.”

Sebastian waits, but the brat does not expand with any helpfulness. After a beat Moriarty steps daintily around the newspaper and perches himself on the other side of the couch.

Sebastian waits, but still nothing. “You're making me stressed, boss, you know that?” he grumbles at last.

Moriarty blinks playfully. “ _Me_?” he gasps with an affectation of innocence.

Sebastian grunts and narrows his eyes a little as he buffs his footwear with a little more enthusiasm than before.

Moriarty grins, and from the corner of his eye Sebastian sees a mischievousness there that makes him fucking anxious.

“Why Moran, what can you mean by that? I'm not dragging you into a _whit_ of danger.”

Sebastian raises his thick blond brows. “Aren't you?”

Moriarty licks his lips. “I'm wounded, Moran, really I am.”

Sebastian risks rolling his eyes, and the lack of something stinging his ear in result is unsettling. “What are you upto?”

Moriarty swings his legs a little. “What makes you think I'm up to anything?” he smirks. Something in his eyes juxtaposes with the cockiness of his expression.

“When are you not up to anything?” Sebastian retorts mildly.

“Does that always stress you?” Moriarty teases.

Sebastian sighs and turns to fix the smaller man with a serious look. “You've got two minutes to get to the point, boss, or I'm going to put down these boots and pull you over my lap instead.”

Moriarty swallows. “Why'd I have to be upto anything?” he mumbles.

“Because firstly, when are you ever not upto something,” Moran retorts, “and secondly...you're looking at me funny.” 

“I was unaware you were such an aficionado of my facial expressions,” Moriarty responds dryly.

Sebastian narrows his eyes a little. “Oh trust me, boss, it's in my best interests to recognise your facial expressions instantly.”

“Oh, so you know what I'm thinking, do you?” Moriarty taunts.

“Does anyone ever know what you're thinking, trouble?” Sebastian replies with a roll of his eyes. “What do you want?”

Moriarty is silent and expressionless for a moment. Sebastian isn't sure that the small man is going to respond, but then Moriarty queries, “Is your offer to spread your legs for me still on the table?”

Sebastian blinks stupidly. “You wanna… fuck me?”

Moriarty narrows his eyes a little. “Did I stutter?”

Moran spreads his shoulders a little imposingly and lowers his boots to the newspaper. “Did you miss the part where I told you only good boys get that?”

Moriarty clears his expression again and shifts as though to move away. Moran reaches out and snatches the smaller man's tie.

“Oh no: I didn't give you permission to go anywhere,” the blond warns.

Moriarty bats at his bodyguard's large hand. “Quit creasing my clothing, you oaf.”

Moran raises a brow and yanks his employer by said tie onto his lap. “Now, now, watch that pretty mouth. You've been mostly well behaved today and you don't want to ruin it.”

“I've hardly seen you today,” Moriarty mutters.

“Exactly,” Sebastian teases. He toys with the buttons of his employer's shirt. “So you want to fuck me..?”

Moriarty huffs and glares at the broad black fingerprints left along his chest. “Go wash your hands first,” he chides.

Moran smirks. “Hmm, I don't think so. You hate feeling dirty.”

Moriarty's gaze flickers for an instant, because how the hell has Moran sussed that, but he grips the blond's collar firmly and snarls, “My bedding costs more than the sheets Dear Old Lizzie rests herself upon. Wash your fucking hands.”

Sebastian grins and kisses the glaring man's temple. “Yes boss.”

Moriarty glowers. “Don't get cute with me. I could put your lips to a grindstone.”

Moran surprises the brunet with a firm smack to the thigh. “Mind yourself, or the only arse getting attention will be yours when I bare it and thrash it.”

“Shut up,” Moriarty grumbles. Sebastian places his palm warningly back on the slapped section of his employer's leg.

Before the brunet can do much more than glare, Moran lifts the slight weight and carries him over to the kitchen sink. Depositing his bratty employer on the counter, Sebastian charitably washes the boot black from his skin.

As the blond dries his hands Moriarty grabs the front of his bodyguard's teeshirt and draws him close. Sebastian presses his forehead against his employer's and chews lightly on the jutting lower lip.

“You want me on all fours?” Moran mumbles playfully. “I'm not sure your little thigh bones are long enough.”

Moriarty nips sharply at Moran's tongue. “I could have yours broken.”

Sebastian hisses, tasting his own blood, but chuckles and lifts his vicious employer from the counter top. “That's not typically considered foreplay, you know.”

“It was a threat, moron,” Moriarty grumbles, but accepts being lifted again, seemingly oblivious to the protests he would usually make to such a touch.

Sebastian carries him through to the bedroom and pins the brat lightly to the mattress. “Now, now, threats aren't going to get you a ticket to my arse.”

Moriarty grips Moran's teeshirt again. “I don't need a ticket, I own it.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yes, you own me and my arse, but that doesn't mean you get to fuck it unless you're nice to me.”

“I don't do 'nice', Moran,” Moriarty sniffs.

The blond pulls away teasingly. “Oh well, no bum fun for you then, boss.”

Moriarty fixes him with a look. “Sebastian.”

The grinning blond freezes. He swallows and manages to respond, “Yes, boss?”

“Get undressed and bring me the lube. I'm going to take your arse, understood?”

The bodyguard gives his employer a strange look, then pulls away and obeys. He feels distinctly unsettled.

Moriarty stands to undress and folds his discarded clothing over the back of a chair. “On your stomach or on your back, Sebastian?”

The blond swallows. “S'been a while… probably my stomach.”

“Alright, I'll go easy on you this time,” Moriarty declares. He jerks his head towards the pillows. “Lie down and get your arse in the air for me so I can stretch you out.”

Moran hesitates. “I… could do it myself?”

Moriarty smirks. “Why Sebastian, are you offering to give me a show?”

The bigger man flushes at the continued use of his name and the teasing.

Moriarty takes unusual pity on him and taps pointedly on the lube bottle. Sebastian swallows again and clambers onto the bed. He can't look Moriarty in the face at all as he reaches behind himself with slicked fingers.

Moriarty pinches one of Sebastian's cheeks teasingly. “You're acting terribly shy for a man who's whipped and plowed my ass so many times.”

The blond lets out a shaky laugh. “I guess. It's different.”

Moriarty spanks Sebastian lightly. “It is. I'm being generous and not striping your arse first.”

Moran's fingers still for a moment. “You _like_ it when I smack you.”

Moriarty trails his gaze knowingly over the crouching man. “You're not looking too adverse to the idea yourself.”

Moran blushes again. “Can you not be such a clever prick when I've got my fingers in my arse?”

“Only two: do get on with it,” Moriarty teases.

The blond rolls his eyes and pants softly as he adds another finger slightly before he is ready. He closes his eyes and squirms at the mild sting, then rocks his fingers slowly to acclimatise to the stretch.

“My hands are smaller you know,” Moriarty comments blithely. “You might have had an easier time.”

Moran tells himself he responds with a glare, but it's more of a pout. He turns away pointedly and lubes up another finger.

“Sebastian, take your time,” Moriarty warns.

Sebastian bites his lip at the burn and presses his forehead against the bedding quickly. “Make up your mind,” he grumbles meekly.

Moriarty swats the bigger man lightly. “That looked like it hurt.”

Moran is quiet.

Moriarty pinches his embarrassed bodyguard's bared bum. “Trust me, Mor- Sebastian- you're going to be tender enough when I've ridden you. Take more care in future or I'll tie you down and prepare you myself.”

Sebastian squirms, both from the scolding and from the realisation that his ordinarily cold employer is deliberately making use of his first name. It's almost comforting.

Moriarty approaches closer and bats away the bigger man's hands. “You know I've had you tested, but would you feel more comfortable if I used a barrier?”

Sebastian feels himself blush darker still. “Thanks, but there's not much point,” he mutters, “I've already sucked and swallowed you.”

“True,” Moriarty agrees, sounding amused. He strokes Moran's bottom, smearing the lube up and down the man's crease before slicking up his own shaft and teasing the exposed entrance.

Sebastian breathes heavily against the bedding.

“Yes?” Moriarty asks in a low voice.

Sebastian bites his lip and nods his head vigorously. 

“Use your words, Sebastian,” Moriarty teases.

The blond give a noise of satisfied distress and glances carefully over his broad shoulder. “Please,” he grumbles.

Moriarty smirks, pinches the muscular bottom before him, and nods courteously back. “Do you have a safe word?”

Moran looks around quickly. “Am I going to need one?”

Moriarty tilts his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps not, but I can get… rough.”

Blue eyes flicker. “I can… take rough,” Sebastian murmurs.

Moriarty rubs up against the other man's sensitive skin. “Perhaps you can. Pick a safeword.”

Moran squirms. “I don't know,” he mutters in embarrassment. “You pick something.”

Moriarty smirks and toys carefully with the larger man's entrance. “Something you wouldn't normally say, yes? Perhaps 'please, Daddy, stop'?”

Moran chokes. “You're fucking serious?”

“Hmm?” Moriarty muses. “Is that something that you're worried you _would_ say in the heat of the moment?”

“Fuck off,” whispers Sebastian, sounding mortified. He squeaks as a quick little hand connects smartly with his bottom.

“Manners,” Moriarty warns. “Unless you _want_ Daddy to spank you, Sebastian?”

The large man blushes brilliantly. “Shut up and dick me,” he mutters into his muscular arms.

“What a mouth on you,” Moriarty teases, but again, he takes uncharacteristic pity and does precisely as Sebastian asks.

Moran almost screams at the unfamiliar ache, forgetting how bad it could be. He tells himself to relax, expecting Moriarty not to care about his comfort, but the brunet waits. He rubs Sebastian's side as though soothing a nervous mare and mutters something in a language the blond cannot understand, but fancies sounds almost soothing.

“M'ready,” Sebastian murmurs.

Moriarty keeps stroking. The touch feels masterful; possessive. It makes the muscled bodyguard feel weak and protected.

Which is mad.

All the same it doesn't hurt when Moriarty starts to move. It continues to not hurt when the lithe man picks up the pace and starts to snap his hips sharply.

Sebastian decides he doesn't give a fuck about saving face and keens responsively. He hears his employer grin breathily above him.

“More,” Moran pleads, leaning up into the contact.

Moriarty slaps him lightly. “You'll get more when I give it to you.”

Sebastian gasps and drops back down to his elbows. Something about the way his employer is speaking sends a strange wave of heat through his insides.

The shorter man reaches up and bites a line down Moran's shoulder as he thrusts hard, amused and aroused by the way his bodyguard groans.

“I thought you were tough, Moran,” Moriarty purrs. “Was I wrong about you? Are you just a little, panting bitch?”

“It's Sebastian,” the blond grumbles, then bites his lip for a moment. “Well if I'm your bitch, you're mine, and I don't think you'd like that, boss...”

Moriarty yanks the muscled subordinate's hair just enough to hurt. “Careful, Sebastian...”

The blond gasps, squeezing his eyes closed against the way Moriarty pounds his arse and lilts his name.

Moriarty smirks, nipping his teeth along Sebastian's quivering back then reaches around and grasps the man's desperate cock.

Moran's breath catches in his throat and he bucks hopelessly into the touch.

Moriarty continues to thrust hard, his hand meeting the pace. “You live, breathe and cum on my say so,” he growls.

Sebastian squirms. “Promise?” he mutters.

Moriarty slows abruptly in response.

The change of pace confuses Sebastian for a moment before his thoughts catch up with his words. He rises quickly. “I meant-”

Moriarty adjusts his legs slightly to give his bodyguard another slap. “Quiet. Your mind, body and-” he gives Moran's dick a firm squeeze- “ _essence_ are mine. Understood?”

“Yes boss,” Sebastian gasps.

“You're going to tell me your place, Sebastian, and if you do it prettily enough I'll let you cum for me,” Moriarty growls softly.

Sebastian cries out softly as he twitches hard in his employer's accommodating hand. “I'm yours,” he replies almost instantly. “You own me… I… I'm _yours_...”

Moriarty listens with approval as he continues to fuck Moran silly. “Clever boy. Now you're going to spill yourself in my hand, just because I'm telling you to, won't you? My obedient toy.”

Sebastian wonders whether his employer's talented hand or targeted words hold the most magic as he feels a telltale rush of heat. Sweating and shaking, he thrusts himself hard into Moriarty's touch.

The short man leans up and reaches out his dripping hand to Moran's mouth. Despite his wobbling limbs, Sebastian twists and laps at his own warm pleasure without thinking about it. Moriarty continues his brutal pace, leaving Sebastian certain he will be sore tomorrow.

“You're especially well-behaved like this,” Moriarty comments. “Is this how I keep you from chomping my neck?”

Moran giggles a little but shakes his head and lifts his tender bottom up into Moriarty's fierce thrusts. “No. You get bitten because you deserve it and you _like_ it.”

Moriarty narrows his eyes and cants his hips sharply, making the larger man whimper almost pitifully.

“Did that hurt?” the brunet asks unsympathetically.

Sebastian catches his breath. “I hope you're not asking for a hiding, boss, because I'm sure you wouldn't like it if you didn't get to cum first.”

Moriarty snatches Moran's hair. “Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes unrepentantly. “The man I've been boning for months?”

Moriarty glares and slaps the larger man hard. He pulls out while Moran is still frowning and dazed then tugs Sebastian's blond hair.

The bodyguard gives a mildly sulky look but pulls the smaller man close with a firm grip on Moriarty's hips.

“Suck me,” Moriarty orders darkly.

Moran laps the slick tip, supposing the taste isn't really all that different from lipgloss. “You could ask nicely, you know,” he chides mildly, then takes his employer deep in his mouth.

Moriarty rolls his eyes and pulls Moran closer. “I'm paying you, aren't I?”

Sebastian uses his teeth gently.

Moriarty chuckles, but it's hard to think with Moran's talented mouth at work. “Good boy,” he mutters.

Sebastian tells himself he absolutely doesn't get a rush from that sort of praise, but he knows bloody well he does.

Still, it feels far better when Moriarty grabs his head tighter and spills down his throat.

The brunet pulls away and crashes down onto his pillows. “Good job,” he mutters.

Sebastian curls up on his side contently. “Welcome.”

They lie in comfortable silence for a while.

Moriarty eyes the large man dubiously. “Moran, you can go back to your own bed now.”

“Oh it's 'Moran' again?” Sebastian responds. “I'm not going anywhere; I'm tired and sore and you just buggered me.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “Whatever; fine. Go to sleep.”


	9. Chapter 9

Although Moriarty is rarely in the habit of mentioning their coupling, Sebastian expects some sort of teasing for the previous night's role reversal and is surprised when none comes.

Moriarty returns to being his usual snippy, overworked and antisocial self. He also won't bloody eat, and scoffs at Moran's concern. Sebastian is growing tempted to start persuading the brat to eat via regular, firm trips across his much larger thighs.

If Moriarty realises his bodyguard's growing frustration he does not allow it to mend his neglectful behaviour. If anything, he seems to be getting worse, regularly falling asleep on top of his laptop fully dressed.

Sebastian gets used to checking his employer's bedroom at night to ensure the brunet doesn't wake each morning with an indentation pattern from the keyboard across his cheek.

He gets used to listening to Moriarty rise in the morning and soon after bringing him tea.

On this particular morning Moriarty seems exceptionally slow to wake. Sebastian accepts this at first: the insane little workhorse could use some rest.

Mid-morning comes and Moriarty still has not roused. Lips thinning in concern, Sebastian decides to investigate.

It is immediately apparent that Moriarty is unwell. His hair is a sweaty mess and his skin is an unhealthy pallor. Sebastian frowns and crosses quickly to the smaller man's side.

The gentle hand smoothing his damp, frowning forehead makes Moriarty flinch before he can censure the reaction. He turns his sore neck and glares weakly at the culprit.

“You're burning up,” Moran states bluntly.

Moriarty huffs and tries to burrow away. “Leave me alone.”

The blond snorts with a derision that would ordinarily make Moriarty lash out angrily, were he feeling less wretched. Sebastian says, “Like hell, you look dreadful. Where do you keep your medicines?”

Moriarty manages to arch a brow despite his banging skull. “I don't… I never get sick.”

“Evidently,” Moran sneers. He pulls away and stands; Moriarty tries to ignore the sharp sliver of distress he feels at the loss. That's troubling. “I'll get you what you need,” Sebastian continues. “I'll be back soon.”

“I'm not sick,” Moriarty mutters, half to himself.

Moran curls his lip. “Well, if you're not sick you must be dying,” he responds archly. “Get some sleep if you can; I'll be as quick as possible.”

Moriarty feels a pitiful surge of gratitude but wrinkles his face pettily. “I don't need-”

Moran pats the narrow, sweating back, causing his employer to flinch. “Then humour me. Either way I'm getting you medicine and you _will_ be taking it, boss.”

Moriarty cannot bring himself to argue. His skin is burning and he wants to cry.

“I'll be back soon,” Moran reiterates in an oddly comforting tone. Moriarty burrows further into his sweat-dampened pillows.

Why is the blond being nice to him?

Sebastian is true to his word and swiftly returns with a variety of medicines. If he growled terrifyingly at various civilians to get served so quickly, well, Moriarty needn't know that.

The brunet feels a surge of relief at Moran's return and tries his best not to acknowledge it.

Sebastian strokes the smaller man's shoulder reassuringly. “Alright, I've got what you need, but you can't have it on an empty stomach. What do you think you can manage right now? Toast? Porridge?”

Moriarty grimaces. His throat feels on fire. “Not toast.”

“Porridge then? Or something else?” Moran asks gently.

“Cold porridge,” Moriarty mumbles. “M'too hot.”

“I'll bring you some cold water as well, okay?” Sebastian reassures.

Moriarty gives a ghost of a nod and curls further into his overly warm bedding. “Don't feel good,” he whispers.

“You'll feel better soon,” Moran promises. “I'll be quick with your breakfast and then we can get some medicine into you, okay?”

“'Kay,” the small man murmurs.

He feels a ridiculous loss again as Sebastian disappears through to the kitchen, but it is comforting to at least be able to hear the large man moving around.

Moran diligently returns with breakfast and helps a reluctant, weak Moriarty into a sitting position to eat. The little employer manages a few spoonfuls but soon pushes the bowl away.

“Sure you can't manage anything more?” the bodyguard asks softly.

Moriarty tries to shake his head but the action makes him wince in pain. Moran understands and swiftly cracks open the medicine. Moriarty hates that he needs help with something so simple as holding a heavy glass to his mouth, but the blond doesn't tease.

“There we go,” Sebastian says kindly as Moriarty manages to swallow the tablets. “Try to get some more sleep and I'll wake you in four hours for your next dose.”

Moriarty tenses at the indication that Moran is about to leave. Weak as it is, he wants the blond to stay.

Sebastian notices and helps his employer back into a reclining position. “Hey, since you're never usually sick I'm going to stay with you for a bit, okay? Keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

Moriarty feels he ought protest, but instead he closes his sore eyes in acceptance.

He flinches as Moran's large hand settles on his throbbing scalp. It starts to massage the sore skin and card through the short, damp hair.

Moriarty feels too ill for the intimacy to terrify him. He feels safe.

Sebastian smiles a little at how the ordinarily cold man relaxes into his touch, but the action concerns him. Moriarty must feel really ill to lower his defences thus.

The brunet drowses on and off fretfully, sweating far too much for Moran's liking and whimpering in his sleep. Sebastian settles in close and curls himself against Moriarty's back protectively.

Moriarty pulls Moran's arm over himself and holds it tightly. Sebastian stares, knowing the little man is half-asleep and feverish, but it feels rather nice to be encouraged all the same.

The four hours pass and Moran reluctantly wakes his charge. “Time for more medicine,” he murmurs.

Moriarty blinks blearily and observes their proximity with shock. He weakly tries to push Moran away but feels miserable and pathetic. He is relieved when the blond barely budges.

“What do you want for lunch?” Sebastian asks.

Moriarty quickly makes a face. “No. ...I'll be sick.”

The broad bodyguard frowns and rubs gentle, comforting circles against Moriarty's tight stomach. “What about something light?”

Moriarty responds with a mild groan and reaches clumsily for the tablets. Sebastian sighs but helps him take the medicine.

“You want anything else?” Moran asks.

Moriarty slumps back down, already almost asleep. “Just stay,” he whispers.

Sebastian stares.

Moriarty shifts around slightly, frowning at not feeling Moran's large, warm form against his back. Sebastian quickly lowers himself down and pulls Moriarty very carefully into him. The brunet makes a sleepy, pained noise of approval.

Moran cards his fingers soothingly through the man's hair again. “Not going anywhere, boss.”


	10. Chapter 10

It may be rare for Moriarty to get sick, but when he does, he is far from half-arsed about it. He is a pitiful little ball of whining discontent for days before he builds back enough strength to snark.

“This is your fault. Germs. I've never been sick before,” Moriarty snips. 

Moran has the audacity to roll his eyes. “No, you didn't take enough care of your diet so your immune system is weaker than mine.”

Moriarty glowers. He still doesn't have enough energy for real bickering and they both know it.

Sebastian rubs Moriarty's scalp as though he wouldn't normally be skinned for that, then slides comfortably from the bed. His employer scowls and wraps the bedding more firmly around himself, promising that all these infractions will not go unpunished.

Even if they are… helpful. No one's ever been brave or stupid enough to coddle Moriarty before. It's not entirely unpleasant.

Moran returns and Moriarty looks at breakfast strangely. For what feels like the hundredth time he protests, “I don't eat in the morning.” 

“You do now,” Sebastian states. “You got sick because you weren't looking after yourself properly.”

Moriarty starts to argue but quietens in suspicion when Moran puts the bowl down. The blond approaches, flipping Moriarty by the shoulder, and lands a swat across the man's cheeks. It doesn't hurt, but the threat is clearly there: behave or else. 

Moriarty sighs but accepts. He's not even that mad about the manhandling: Moran might just have a point and Moriarty wouldn't be recovering quite so easily without his nursing.

The brunet really does try to eat but it's an obvious struggle. He begins to push the bowl away but Moran makes a disapproving noise and settles closer. “No,” he chides gently. “You can take your time, but you need to eat more than that.”

Moriarty groans childishly. Sebastian smiles softly. “Come on. My big, fierce crime lord's not going to be defeated by a bowl of soggy cereal, is he?”

Moriarty glowers ineffectually. “I know what you're doing and it won't work.”

The blond chuckles softly and picks up the spoon. “Well it works every other morning, so you might as well get this over with, boss.”

Moriarty huffs. He catches the soft, amused look Moran gives him and supposes things could be worse. He's a little surprised his bodyguard hasn't dumped food over his head yet.

It's certainly not as though Moriarty's in any fit state to wreak vengeance.

Sebastian clears his throat and raises the spoon again patiently. Moriarty sighs and concedes as Moran cajoles him into taking a little more.

The blond smiles, and it's clear that he's thinking 'good boy' even if he's smart enough not to say that out loud. Moriarty glowers for a moment, but then Moran is helping him drink down his pills, and not dropping or banging his face off of the cold, heavy glass still seems to take a great deal of Moriarty's concentration.

Moran puts down the tumbler and absently wipes the corners of his employer's mouth with his thumb. The action had been embarrassing for Moriarty the first few time, but recently it merely seems oddly intimate.

He must be feeling fragile if he's starting to crave the blond's slightest touch.

And he's also bloody tired, all the damned time. He can barely remember when he last properly answered his emails.

Fuck them, they will have to wait.

Moriarty slumps back down and is unsure how to feel about the way Moran obediently scoots down to be his pillow. It's… comfortable though.

The blond knows better than to tease, and merely does that lovely thing with Moriarty's hair. He deserves a raise. He absolutely deserves to be shot for seeing Moriarty in such a weakened state, but yes, he does deserve a raise.

Moran draws a thumb across his employer's wrinkling forehead. “Whatever you're thinking about, stop,” he murmurs. “You're supposed to be resting. Plenty time to stress once you're better.”

Moriarty narrows his eyes mildly. “Stop touching me.”

Sebastian gives the brunet a look. “You want me to leave?”

Moriarty glowers. “No. Just… don't be so familiar.”

The blond examines his face with concern. “Fine, grumpy. Are you alright? Feeling worse than usual?”

“I'm perfectly fucking fine,” Moriarty grumbles, but he burrows into Moran's chest as he says it, to prevent the idiot moving away.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and wraps a muscular arm protectively around his slight charge. “Ah, great. The attitude's because you're feeling better then?”

“I don't have an attitude,” Moriarty mutters, his words slurring sleepily.

“Little liar,” Moran responds fondly. He chews his lip as the little brunet falls asleep against him. This malleable, cuddly version of the fearsome consulting criminal is almost likable. Sebastian's not looking forward to the aftermath when Moriarty gets his strength and senses back.

Moriarty continues to feel a little clingy over the next few days, although some of his sassiness is definitely coming back. Sebastian doesn't mind that, it's fairly amusing coming from the droopy little spitfire. However, the bodyguard knows he has gotten used to sleeping with his back to the door and Moriarty tucked in to him. Sebastian's not looking forward to being relegated back to his own bedroom.

The brunet abruptly rolls over and gives Moran an odd look.

The blond frowns attentively. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing,” Moriarty responds.

“Then why aren't you sleeping?”

Moriarty hesitates. “Because I want you to touch me.”

Sebastian looks down at their bodies pressed together. “But I _am_ touch- oh.”

Moriarty arches his brows.

“Are you well enough for that?” Moran asks.

Moriarty makes a face. “I've done nothing but sleep and eat in days; my energy levels are boundless.”

'And bitch,' Sebastian adds within his head. 'You used those energy levels to bitch a whole damned lot.' If Moriarty really can read his thoughts he doesn't rebuke.

Instead the little brunet reaches for the buttons of his pyjama shirt. Sebastian watches for a moment, fixated, then drops his hand over his employer's smaller ones. “You're _supposed_ to be resting.”

“I'm bored out of my fucking mind, Moran,” Moriarty responds. “Make yourself useful.” He tugs at his bodyguard's teeshirt.

Moran gives the smaller man a stern look. “Oh no. I'm not letting you burn away all the resilience you've built up.”

Moriarty gives him a displeased look. “But-”

“I didn't say I wasn't going to help you,” the blond continues. “Just that we'll be doing as I say.”

Moriarty finishes unbuttoning his top. “We usually do.”

Sebastian glances down incredulously at the lack of fight. “You're definitely still ill.”

Moriarty grips himself lightly through the expensive fabric of his pyjama bottoms. “Not too ill for you to _touch_ me.”

Moran rolls his eyes and makes a conceding little growl. He taps Moriarty's hip.

The little brunet raises himself up obediently, smiling as his bodyguard yanks down his bottoms.

Moran kisses the bared chest. “You are _beyond_ bloody spoiled,” he scolds.

“And you're not?” Moriarty chuckles softly, not protesting at all as the blond marks out a path with his lips. “You're the only one I currently allow to touch me.”

Sebastian stills for a second, uncertain whether the comment is a throwaway one, or a confession borne of his employer's vulnerable state. Either way, the blond knows better than to draw attention to his thoughts so instead continues kissing his way down to Moriarty's groin.

“Should I roll over?” the brunet whispers.

Moran leans up on his elbows, trailing his fingertips pleasantly over his employer's skin. “You're in no fit state to take my cock, boss. Give it a few days. I know how to take care of you in the meantime.”

Moriarty is tempted to protest, but he supposes being pleasured is being pleasured. He leans into Moran's touch. “Fine. Don't slap me too hard.”

Sebastian fixes him with a look. “I'm not going to slap you.”

Moriarty frowns. “Why not? Aren't you frustrated about putting up with me like this?”

Moran sighs. “No I'm not. If anything you've been an angel recently compared to your usual, bratty self.”

Moriarty laughs softly. “Don't get used to it.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, boss.” Sebastian presses another kiss into the smaller man's chest then drops his hand to Moriarty. The brunet hisses approvingly as Moran's fingers wrap around him.

“Do all your nurses give you this treatment?” the blond teases.

Moriarty nips him lightly with his teeth. “No one else would be so careless with their life as to be around me when I'm ill. Bit of a nasty temper on me, or hadn't you noticed?”

Moran snorts, stroking firmly as he speaks. “If anything you've threatened my life _less_ since you've been poorly.”

Moriarty bares his teeth. “My mistake. I'll be sure to threaten you more when I'm well.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and squeezes teasingly. “Oh, I don't doubt that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sick, feeble Moriarty may have lulled some of you into a false sense of security. It's not all going to be pretty, but it will get resolved, don't worry.

Sebastian can tell that Moriarty still doesn't feel great, but forces himself to attend to his neglected correspondences and show face at a few meetings. The man can somehow affect a total veneer of invulnerability outside, but the moment they are out of sight Moriarty greys and looks fucking tired.

“You okay boss?” the bodyguard asks, even though the question is rarely answered without an insult or threat.

“Fucking dandy,” Moriarty retorts.

Moran sighs. “Boss.”

The Irishman's Oxfords slow for a moment then continue sharply towards his building.

Sebastian strides after him towards the lifts. “Boss.”

“ _Shut up, Moran_!” his employer barks.

The bodyguard sighs and slaps the 'up' button. “I'm worried about you. That's my job.”

Moriarty's eyes flash, and Sebastian is uncertain whether the man is more or less menacing when he's vulnerable.

Moriarty crosses the small distance between them and tilts his face up dangerously. “Your job. Is to _shut_. The fuck. Up. When I tell you to.”  
Moran sighs and the doors open beside them. He snatches the explosive creature and throws him inside the small space before stepping over and dropping to his knees.

Moriarty throws his head back and laughs darkly. “That's not how you get round me, Moran.”

The larger man reaches to Moriarty's waist but keeps his hands hovered patiently. “I'm not trying to get around you. You should have a rest and if we fuck you'll sleep.”

Moriarty pushes his broad shoulder at the exact place that disrupts Sebastian's balance. “I'm not going to let you fuck me in my lift.”

Moran tries not to make a face from his position on the floor. “Who said anything about you getting turned over?”

Moriarty raises his his brows a little and crosses his arms in debate. “Thought only good boys got that?” the brunet scoffs. 

Sebastian grins wryly at being knocked to his ass in an elevator. “You didn't bitch about breakfast today: we'll call that progress.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes and slides down his fly. “You're memorable: I'll give you that.”

Sebastian sits up. “You approve?”

Moriarty pushes down his underwear. “I didn't say that. Crawl.”

The blond freezes for a moment, because he's huge and his boss isn't and is he really going to crawl on his knees for the privilege of sucking Moriarty's cock before it splits him apart?

Stupid question. Of course he fucking is.

Sebastian approaches and tells himself his face absolutely isn't flaming. He hates / loves when Moriarty yanks his hair to fully observe the humiliation.

The brunet's already hard, even if he does look shattered. Moran leans a little closer, inhaling the scent of Moriarty's skin and interest for a moment. Focusing on the small hand firmly gripping his hair.

“Need a map, Se- Moran?”

Sebastian drops back on his heels just a little bit. Oh. He's going to have to work for that, is he? Fine.

The blond kneels close and rubs his face against Moriarty's arousal, knowing in the subtle way the standing man shifts himself just barely that this is a good move.

Moran kisses and laps at the balls and shaft brushing his face. Soon there is precum smearing his cheeks; nose; jaw. He can smell his own spit on his skin.

Sebastian leans up and licks firmly at the wet tip.

Moriarty hisses. “Fuck, stop teasing.”

That makes the bodyguard's chest feel warm and he leans forward to suck, but not obediently. Grinning, he swirls his tongue and sucks shallowly and kisses and nips and tugs just softly and…

“Fuck!” Sebastian catches the floor in one hand and uses the other to cover the suddenly scarlet side of his face. His eyes are watering a little, bur it's mostly from shock.

“ _Do_ as you're told,” Moriarty states coolly.

Sebastian rubs his cheek and jaw, wondering how so much of him can be stung by such a small hand. He nods and clambers back to his knees.

Moran doesn't flinch at Moriarty's next touch, but he is a little bemused by the light way his employer guides him by the hair back to the impatient cock. Confusing fucking bastard.

Still. At least the prick in his mouth is easy for Sebastian to understand. He slicks with spit and hollows his cheeks and glides with increasing effort until he can take the undeserving little fucker to his throat and… okay, yeah, maybe Moriarty deserves this a little bit because the fucking _noises_ he can make…

Moran increases his enthusiasm and can't help but smile at the way his employer grips him. Moriarty's hips begin to buck harshly.

Sebastian thinks he might choke, but then the hands in his hair move to either side of his face and hold him still. Moriarty fucks his open mouth in a curious mixture of vicious and careful. The front of Sebastian's trousers are damp by the time Moriarty pours his burning self down the blond's willing throat.

Moriarty reaches over and slaps the penthouse button.

“Good boy. Get undressed: you've got about fifteen minutes before I rip you in half.”

Sebastian feels absolutely all blood rush directly to his cock and he's now so hard within his trousers he's delighted to take them off. He strips everything eagerly, too enthusiastic to even question what he is doing.

Moriarty watches him with heated eyes.

The doors open and the short brunet gives Moran a look. Sebastian feels a quiver near his naval and snatches up Moriarty, carrying the man through to the bedroom.

Barely complaining, the previously drained Moriarty is now ripping at his own clothes as Sebastian tears open the drawer for lube.

“You or me?” he asks breathlessly.

“I'm more efficient; bringit here,” Moriarty demands.

Moran feels another surge of heat at the order and passes it over with hands that tremble with adrenaline. Soon Moriarty's fingers are _inside_ him and moving and _ah fuck_ yes, more, _please_ …

Moriarty pins Moran over the edge of the bed and draws his short nails down the broad back, then he's pushing firmly at Sebastian's entrance and the blond is pressing his eyes closed… He's so fucking full and he can feel Moriarty's pulse throbbing right through him and for such a little thing he's a solid weight and _hell_ when he starts to slam those hips!

Sebastian tries not to scrabble at the sheets or keen or gasp embarrassing things but that's a lost fucking cause and Moriarty knows it.

“Who owns you?” he snarls. And again, over and over and over, “Who owns you, who owns you, who owns you?!”

And every fucking time Moran utters some variance of, “ _You do_.”

Moriarty takes him hard, and Sebastian's so close to cumming he can feel his toes start to curl. Then his employer takes him harsher still, slamming out his own orgasm fiercely.

...And then he pulls out, allowing hot liquid to drip down Sebastian's thighs.

The bodyguard looks around in confusion and concern. “What..?”

Moriarty gives him an icy look. “Get the fuck out of my bed. Whore.”

Sebastian utterly hates the way his insides curdle at the rebuke. It's. Just. Fucking. Sex. It's a job. It's a perk of the job. It's not…

Oh for fuck's sake it has never been anything else but shagging the psychotic boss.

Yeah.

Right. Right right right.

Sebastian pulls himself off of Moriarty's bed, snaps off a slightly sarcastic salute (who knew that was still instinctive?), and leaves the room without looking around. He's not stupid enough to act hurt, but if Moriarty can read anger in the spread of his shoulders that's just too fucking bad.

Shit. The little prick's bound to wind him up now he knows how to prod his temper.

Sebastian takes a shower to rid the smell of sex with his employer, although using the shower products Moriarty may have chosen isn't entirely helpful.

The water does fuck all to ease Moran's mood and he throws his forehead flat against the wet tile carefully. He considers having a wank to take the edge off of his temper, but honestly, his skin is crawling a bit.

The bodyguard dries himself off quickly and acknowledges he's going to need to work out hard if he has any hope of sleeping. In an ordinary sulk he'd drop right here and start breaking a sweat, but he feels uneasy. He crosses to his dresser and pulls on a pair of clean boxers before he feels comfortable even warming up.

He feels… vulnerable. It's not a feeling Moran enjoys. He's spent a long enough time trying to feel prepared for any possible threat.

That little dark-eyed fucker through there shouldn't be able to make _any_ part of Sebastian feel raw and exposed, much less his…

His fucking feelings.

Oh great. He's got a fucking crush on the fucking boss and this is going to go bloody buggering fucking badly.

Moran punches the floor pettily.

It really does take him a long time to work himself into enough exhaustion to sleep, and Sebastian's not too delighted about getting up for a meeting with motherfucking Moriarty the next morning.

The brunet doesn't mention anything. Then again, he's not in a pleasant mood either. He's in that jittery, frowny car crash sort of mood which makes Sebastian scowl.

The last thing he fucking needs is the brat having a tantrum this morning.

The bodyguard checks and double checks his main holster agitatedly. Calm. Calm. He needs to stay bloody calm, or he's going to end up flaying the psychotic little fuck in public and that's a bad idea.

Because Moriarty will kill him. Fucking kill him. Lengthily. Personally. Sickly.

Moran shoots a glare at the back of his employer's head.

Moriarty really is in one of those moods. After the drive and another hour or so of the little Irishman's rattling nervous energy Sebastian reluctantly starts to thaw a bit: it must be shit feeling like that all the time. It must be bloody exhausting.

Still, the blond keeps his wits about him. Moriarty's just asking for trouble when he's like this.

Oh, of course he is.

Moran's not even surprised when a few hours into negotiations (that Moriarty has been making fucking torturous for all involved) the little catastrophe sets the whole thing alight.

Literally.

The crazy little fucking nutjob pauses a massive, dangerous negotiation _to set the fucking building on fire_ and stand off against some unsuspecting, kind of undeserving, foreign mafioso type.

Sebastian actually considers resigning for a split second, but then his instincts kick in and he starts metaphorically fighting fires by opening fire at every fucking target he can see.

Except Moriarty. Because heaven fucking help him, Moran's protective of the fucking cunt.

And that's where it all goes fucking wrong, as if it hadn't been doing that all fucking day and beyond _anyway_.

Moriarty lets out an enraged scream as Moran shoots his foe and spins around shaking with fury.

“WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU TO TAKE INITIATIVE?” he bellows.

The bodyguard responds with a black look. “Don't. Don't fucking start.”

Moriarty screams again, far more terrifying than any spoilt child, and waves his gun around erratically as he stalks towards his blond.

“Why the _fuck_. Do you think. You can talk to me like that. _In fucking public_. And not get _your fucking face blown off_?”

Moran's never frozen in battle before. Utter confusion rushes through his brain as the bullet rips through his skin.

“I did tell you it wasn't likely to be the last time I got you shot,” Moriarty drawls, twitching his head agitatedly.

Sebastian chokes and staggers back.

Moriarty pinches the bridge of his nose tightly and tries to stare dispassionately at the vermillion bloom spreading across the broad chest.

He takes out his phone. "I'm going to need some help with this mess."


	12. Chapter 12

Moriarty is a fat load of fucking help and merely watches the flames licking around them as Moran struggles to remove his suit jacket and hold it to the painful hole in his shoulder.

One of the brunet's drivers, who is probably not paid enough to enter burning buildings, (but who says no to this boss?) enters and approaches as directed moments ago.

He gives Moran a sympathetic look, even though it's bloody rare for Moriarty not to simply leave broken soldiers behind. “C'mere, lean on me, big fellah.”

The bodyguard does, because he's not a pissy little bitch when it comes to accepting help that he needs, and they walk out to the car. Moriarty wanders along to the side, neither with nor away from them, and deigns not to say a word.

Moran eases himself down onto a seat with the driver's help and glares a little as Moriarty skips around.

The driver returns to the front seat and wisely ensures the barrier between them is in place.

Sebastian turns to his employer crossly. “I can't believe you fucking shot me, you absolute _arsehole_.”

Moriarty examines his hands. The skin feels hot and tight from their proximity to the flames, but only his cheeks feel a little blistered.

“Raging at me is only going to accelerate your bloodflow, which is going to make it harder to contain that mess of a shoulder,” he declares.

Moran gives him another dangerous look. “You fucking cockwomble.”

Moriarty ignores him. He's found that being irritating makes others less likely to notice when he's white-faced and shaken. He affects nonchalance and a sardonic smirk.

The bodyguard huffs and returns his attention to his shoulder. “I am so fucking pissed at you,” he hisses.

Moriarty acts like he has not heard a word and instead picks up his phone. “Ian. You owe me a favour.”

Sebastian can faintly make out a laugh on the other side of the call. He personally doesn't feel like laughing. He feels like caving that smug little head in.

The mysterious Ian responds, “I owe you nothing, M, but you know I'd give you the shirt off my back… and it would probably fit, too. What do you need?”

Moriarty purses his lips. “My current bodyguard is inept. Can you bring some basic kit and something strong for the pain?”

Sebastian senses more than hears the change in atmosphere. He's still bloody annoyed though.

“On my way,” says Ian, and kills the call.

Moriarty suddenly seems oddly quiet. That remaining nervous tension has evaporated, leaving something else which Sebastian cannot read.

When the car comes to a halt Moriarty is the first to exit, barking absently at his driver to have the upholstery dealt with. No thank you for coming to heel within a burning fucking building of course.

And no helping Sebastian get out the car, not that the little runt would have been much use anyway.

Zero conversation is exchanged in the lift and Sebastian resolutely ignores the sight of the previous day's clothing on the floor. He's still unhappy about that too.

Moriarty trots through to his living space when the doors open. Sebastian mostly expects a lecture about getting blood on the furniture, but none comes.

The brunet fetches a clean towel and throws it at his bodyguard. Moran blinks and leans over painfully to pick the item from the floor. He swaps out his ruby-stained, sopping jacket and lets it drop, splashing the carpet slightly.

Moriarty doesn't so much as curl his lip.

“Don't suppose you can get me some drink and a first aid kit, could you?” Sebastian grits out.

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “I called my doctor. Weren't you paying attention? And you're not having a sniff of alcohol because you'll be getting pumped full of pain meds. I imagine.”

Moran grunts and returns his attention to the growing spread of warmth within the towel.

“I'm so mad at you,” he mutters.

The lift doors open but Moriarty hears anyway. “Save it for now,” he murmurs.

However Sebastian had pictured Ian, he had at least expected a man. Instead, Moriarty lets in a wiry brunette woman with a medical briefcase and almost military posture.

“Where are you hurt?” she asks Moriarty.

He presses his lips together. “ _I'm_ not.”

Ian slants her gaze across to Sebastian, who is freely bleeding across his pale blue shirt, and schools her face in a way that suggests she is rarely called to deal with Moriarty's _employees_.

She kneels before Sebastian and opens her case deftly. “Well you managed to get shot at quite close range, didn't you kid?”

Sebastian's gaze flickers at that, not seeing much of an age difference between them, yet he suddenly notices the way Moriarty's posture leans in towards the woman trustingly. Sebastian glances back at the woman's hair, but it's far more chestnut than his employer's almost blackish brown.

“Moran,” Moriarty prompts sharply.

“What?” Sebastian blurts. He realises he has missed a question. 

The doctor raises her brows and repeats, “Does anywhere else hurt?”

“Oh sorry, um, everywhere?”

“Right,” Ian states in a tone reminiscent of Jim's sourness. She stops bothering to talk to Sebastian and instead examines him with a measured efficiency. Sebastian tries not to focus on what she does, especially when it hurts, _especially when she takes out the fucking bullet_ , and focuses instead on her face. Her lips are almost colourless when pressed together but the action throws into relief a number of small scars around them, which suggests at one point the woman was a teenager with a mouth full of metal. Her eyes are focused, grey with tiny flecks of yellow, and creased at the corners. Ian's nose has been broken.

“Hold this,” Ian commands.

Sebastian looks down and finds a bag thrust into his hand, feeding his arm through a drip.

Ian stands and crosses comfortably to the sink to wash the blood from her hands. Drying them on a paper towel that she dumps into the bin, she turns and fixes Moriarty with an odd look.

“A word, dear,” she commands.

Moriarty nods crisply, a sliver of pink rising up his neck, and leads Ian into not his office, but his bedroom. Sebastian watches with interest, although it's hard to think about much other than his mangled shoulder.

“That's your incompetent bodyguard?” Ian comments pointedly. “Normally the practise is to dispose of them, not patch them up.”

Moriarty gives her a wary look. “What do you think?”

She raises her brows. “I think you're a clever enough boy that you know fine well, and just want encouraged to do exactly as you are doing.”

Moriarty swallows. His odd flush has deepened from rose to definite pink.

“If he pleases you by all means keep him around,” Ian states.

“You don't think it's unwise… weakness?” Moriarty presses.

“I don't see much fun in being the most dangerous man in London if you can't partake in whatever you please,” Ian advises.

Moriarty nods slowly.

She scrutinises him. “What's different with you? Apart from caring about another human being? Who I'm pretty sure _you_ shot, by the way.”

Moriarty shrugs. “He makes me eat.”

Ian raises her brows. “He can _make_ you do something, can he?”

He gives her a dark look.

She smiles back unrepentantly. He's glad she hasn't mentioned him looking sick (although how could she notice under this embarrassing stress?) because she'd no doubt have something clever to say about it. Remind him of people who work so damn hard they only get sick during the holidays, when they subconsciously relax. _He_ does not fucking relax around anyone.

Well...

Ian advances and kisses his temple. “Next time you call, shrimp, invite me somewhere that smells of coffee grounds and not blood.”

Moriarty chuckles softly. “How horrifyingly pedestrian.”

Ian makes a face. “When I'm not elbow deep in boys' guts I'm patching you up in the small hours. I crave pedestrian.”

“Better than Dubai surely.”

“Worst year of my life,” Ian grimaces.

“As it should be,” Moriarty snorts. “You left me to rely on strangers for my bullet plucking needs.”

Ian smirks and pats his head fondly. “You know you missed me.”

“And you know that if I didn't you wouldn't be keeping those fingers,” Moriarty reminds her.

She scoffs comfortably and kisses his brow bone as she steps back into Sebastian's view.

“Feed the big one; he's lost a lot of blood.”

Moriarty affords Moran a silent glance and nods in agreement.

“I mean it about the grounds as well, M,” Ian states as she gathers her belongings and heads for the door. “Don't make me kidnap you.”

Moriarty surprises Sebastian by chuckling. “Always a pleasure, Captain.”

Ian gives Moriarty a warm, open smile and leaves, calling over her shoulder, “There's enough meds on the table for three weeks. Give me a call if you need more. I'll send along some gloop for your mutual burns, as you didn't bother to mention any proximity to fire.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes, rubbing absently at his flaking cheeks, and reluctantly turns back around to face Moran.

“She seems fond of you,” Sebastian comments carefully.

Moriarty's gaze flickers. “She is. What do you eat?”

“Nothing that will make me throw up or die would be great,” Sebastian states dryly.

Moriarty rolls his eyes again and pulls out his phone, calling up a takeaway food website catering to various palates. “Order something.”


	13. Chapter 13

“So. _Now_ are we going to talk about how pissed I am at you?” Moran questions.

Moriarty barely spares him a glance. “What makes you think I even care?”

The blond glares at him coolly. “Honestly by this point I have no idea what you care about.”

“Why would you suppose I cared about anything?” Moriarty asks with a strange expression.

“Good question,” Sebastian snaps. They lapse into silence for a while before he states, “You're lucky you didn't shoot my other shoulder.” 

Moriarty raises a brow. “You mean _you're_ lucky. Wouldn't have much use for you then.”

Moran gives a laugh that sounds bitter. “Like you've got much use for me now?”

Moriarty examines his slightly painful hands. “I'm hardly in the habit of repairing what I won't use.”

Sebastian scowls for a beat. “The fuck does that mean?”

Moriarty frowns and presses his lips together. “It means stop fucking complaining.”

Moran gives the smaller man a warning look. “Did you miss the part where _you fucking shot me_?”

The brunet raises a brow. “I shoot employees all the time, Moran. You're not special.”

“You shoot them _dead_ or you disable them for incompetence. What the hell do you call this?” the angry bodyguard retorts.

“You're wasting your time trying to predict the motives of a greater intellect,” Moriarty sighs.

Moran stands. “No, you're wasting my time by not telling me what's going on.”

“I own your time Moran: I can't waste it. All bought and paid for.”

The blond bares his teeth. “Oh right, being shot for protecting your crazy ass is just a perk of the job, is it?”

Moriarty continues to focus infuriatingly on his slightly blistered hands. “You like a bit of pain, don't you?”

Sebastian crosses the distance between them and snatches up his tiny employer by the collar. “This isn't a fucking joke to me, boss!”

Moriarty actually flinches but gives the blond a bored look. “Put me down before I have you _put down_ , moron.”

Sebastian sneers, light catching on his exposed gum as he curls his lip. “By who? _I'm_ your protection in here.”

The brunet's gaze flickers. “A threat, Moran, really?”

Moran grins coldly. His injury's certainly paining him, but he's still more than a match for this little runt. “Did you hear a threat? I didn't say anything.”

Moriarty clears his throat. “Put me down,” he orders.

“Why the fuck should I?” the muscular blond drawls.

Moriarty frowns, shifting a little, and reaches out to tug the tube still attached to his employee. “Enough.”

Moran raises a brow. Keeping a firm grip on the smaller man, he stubbornly drops the bloodbag he has been holding in his weaker arm. The fall will rip it right from his vein, but Moriarty snatches for it instinctively.

Sebastian loosens his grip in surprise.

“I don't want blood on my carpet,” Moriarty declares.

Moran stands still, observing the little man awkwardly holding the transfusion bag. The bodyguard breathes deeply. “...You know I can tell when you're lying, right?”

“I'm not interested in your bizarre fantasies, Moran,” Moriarty drawls.

Sebastian gives him an arch look and growls softly. The blond crosses the small distance between them and pushes Moriarty forcefully down onto the couch underneath him.

The brat bites his lip and stares up with wide eyes.

Sebastian is fascinated by Moriarty's changeable nature. The short brunet is typically all dark, deadly eyes and spitting nature, but sometimes he diffuses under Sebastian's touch… becoming this odd, wanting creature with a searching gaze and soft grip. Only for moments at a time; short enough that Moran often wonders whether he's half imagined them.

This time when the bodyguard had grabbed Moriarty the change had been startling. Everything in the short man's face has rearranged, and it is an entirely different, yet not utterly alien, form within Sebastian's grasp. The blond thinks he might have met this stranger before in glances, but Moriarty just seems so _different_ , right down to his pores.

The brunet doesn't seem to like the change much. He stays frozen under Moran's touch for so long Sebastian thinks he might be broken, then Moriarty frowns, a questionable sort of frown, and tries to twist away.

Sebastian almost lets him, driven by the curiosity to see what his changeling employer might do next, but then he snatches up Moriarty's shirt front and pins him still. It is too risky to lose him. Wild creature.

“Don't, Moran,” the brunet sighs.

“You're so fucking strange,” Sebastian murmurs.

Moriarty's expression tightens. “Yes, I'm a freak. Now put me down, you mutt.”

The bodyguard gives him a warning look. “Really? You want to talk to me like that after how you've behaved today?”

Moriarty presses his lips together tightly and juts his chin defiantly.

Moran cages the smaller man in with his strong body. “Posture all you like; I'm going to fucking destroy you,” he warns.

The brunet frowns but his eyes heat warily. He shifts slightly under Moran's considerable bulk and jabs a little sharply at fresh bandage covering the day's gun wound. Sebastian bites back a roar and attacks the little psychopath's neck instead.

Moriarty groans softly and tries to push him away. Sebastian is slow to oblige, admittedly inwardly fucking furious with his criminal. However, he rises to his elbows to pull away, and feels a restraining tug on the hair at the back of his skull.

“You're hard fucking work,” Moran growls against Moriarty's cheek.

The brunet breathes shallowly. “I know.”

Sebastian bites his ear hard enough to make Moriarty whimper. “I should fucking flay you.”

“I know,” his employer repeats.

“Carve you,” the disgruntled bodyguard continues.

“I know,” Moriarty whispers.

“Burn you,” Moran purrs.

The brunet tightens his grasp of the blond's short hair. “Please...” Moriarty murmurs, although he's uncertain what for.

Moran shifts closer, ignoring how his mishandled transfusion bag gets in the way. “You don't even deserve for me to rip you open,” he admonishes. “I should just fucking kill you.”

Moriarty doesn't tense. “Come on then,” he whispers.

Sebastian chuckles darkly. “Somehow I still don't want to harm you.”

The brunet blinks up at him. “Why not?”

Moran strokes his face. “No idea, must be lack of sense.” He trails his broad fingers down over the tender, already dark bruising at the smaller man's neck. “You've got me well trained, haven't you?”

Moriarty squirms a little. “Hardly. Stop toying; you're supposed to rest.”

“Rather make you cry,” Moran answers calmly.

Moriarty breathes in quickly.

Sebastian runs his thumb over the smaller man's lower lip. “Is that what you want? Should I smash your teeth down your lovely throat?”

Moriarty licks the skin unconsciously. Moran stares at the pretty little mouth, wondering why he would want to do anything with this dangerous little creep. Moriarty hesitates, then brings his teeth down carefully over Moran's thumb.

“I'm not gonna let you cum,” Sebastian blurts.

Moriarty's face goes through a number of expressions. “You're supposed to be resting,” he says at last.

“I'll sleep well once I've bled you on my dick,” Moran retorts.

The brunet gives him a not entirely disgusted look. “You don't get to fuck me just because I shot you.”

“You'll fuck me because that arse is mine,” Moran responds. “And you're sorry.”

“I'm not,” Moriarty mutters stubbornly.

The blond gives him a look. “Then you will be,” he adds dismissively.

Moriarty bites his lip. “I could tranq you if you won't do as you're told.”

“Just try doing anything else against my will today; see what that gets you,” Moran warns darkly.

The brunet swallows, but is rescued by the robotic whine of the intercom. “Your food's here,” he says softly.

The larger man hesitates. “Fine. I'm not finished with you.”

“Just eat,” Moriarty sighs.

Sebastian grunts and reaches for the irritating little bag to stand. He grunts, gripping the back of the couch as the room spins slightly.

“You've gone white,” Moriarty comments unhelpfully.

“Just a little dizzy; give me a sec,” Moran mutters.

“Don't be stupid.” Moriarty extracts himself and crosses over to the lift to collect his employee's food. It's possibly the first time he's done anything for the blond.

Sebastian bites his lip as he watches Moriarty return. The short man crosses to the kitchen and dishes up the meal onto a proper plate.

“Spill this on my furniture and I really will kill you,” the brunet warns.

Moran gives him a black smile and holds up his thumb and forefinger close together. “I'm not ready to joke about that yet, and you are still about _this close_ to me taking an electrical cable to you.”

Moriarty glowers, handing over the plate and dropping down on the couch agitatedly. “Bon appetit,” he mutters dryly.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and breaks up a bit of naan bread. “You want some of this?”

The brunet gives him an exasperated look. “I'm not hungry.”

Sebastian dips his bread into the biriani. “You're never fucking hungry. Drives me mad.”

Moriarty gives him an amused, sidelong glance. “Really? That's my most frustrating habit?”

Moran laughs. “Well, the bodily harm's quite high on my list.”

The brunet raises his brows then lifts the neglected fork and uses it to spear a piece of hot chicken. Sebastian watches him with surprise. “What?” Moriarty asks.

“Nothing,” the blond answers carefully. He focuses on his food, wolfing it down and trying not to smile as the smaller man picks rarely from his plate.

“Wouldn't have pegged you as the type to share,” Moran comments playfully when there is no risk of the meal being upturned over his head.

Moriarty stills before dropping down his fork defensively. “You eat too fast. Like a dog,” he complains as Moran clears the plate away.

The blond shrugs. “I grew up surrounded by other boys. If I wanted to eat it made sense to be quick about it.”

He returns and drops down beside Moriarty, who wrinkles his nose. “I didn't have that problem.”

“I suppose you were an only child?” Sebastian muses. 

Moriarty gives him an odd look. “Sort of.” 

“How can you sort of be an only child?” Sebastian asks skeptically. 

Moriarty shrugs. Carefully, he responds, “You've met my foster sister.”

Sebastian blinks. “Ian.”

Moriarty gives a small nod. “As you said, she is fond of me.”

Sebastian considers. “What about your foster parents?”

“Long dead,” Moriarty scoffs. “Ian is very practical.”

“She killed them?” Sebastian blurts.

“We couldn't have afforded university otherwise,” Moriarty explains. “The state pays for your education if you stay in care.”

“That's fucking brutal,” Sebastian says, a little stunned.

“It was the best option all round, including for those drains of oxygen,” Moriarty sniffs.

“What age were you both?” Sebastian asks. “Was that her first kill?”

“She was around her mid teens, I was early teens, just.” Moriarty considers. “There were rumours, but that was the first time I knew for sure.”

“What about you?” Moran asks. “When was your first?”

Moriarty shrugs. “Too young to tell for sure whether I made my mother overdose or whether it was a fluke, but I'd killed my father by late primary. A boy at school not long after. Some people looked at me as though I'd been responsible for the death of my grandmother, but that was just the inconvenience of old age.”

Sebastian laughs softly and touches his employer's hair. “You little psychopath.”

Moriarty glances up quickly, surprised by the touch.

Moran notices and frowns a little at the startled face. “What?”

“You're supposed to be pissed off at me,” the little Irishman murmurs.

His bodyguard shrugs. “I am.”

Moriarty gives him a dubious look.

Sebastian rolls his blue eyes and pointedly touches the dark hair some more. “I can be pissed at you -rightfully so, mind- and not scalp you.”

Moriarty glances up through Moran's own fingers skeptically. Sebastian pushes him softly. “You know, I think this is the most you've tolerated a conversation the entire time we've known each other.”

Moriarty's gaze darts away uncomfortably. “I don't know you.”

The large blond snorts. “Yes you do. We live together, we fuck… I'm still mad at you for that as well, so you know… and you did all your _research_ on my background, if you remember.”

Moriarty's expression flickers. “Well… you don't know _me_.”

“There's knowing you and understanding you,” the bodyguard muses. He shifts his weight, his abused shoulder clearly troubling him.

“What do you mean?” Moriarty asks.

Sebastian shrugs. “I know that you're driven. Work too hard. Like to take risks. Have a love-hate relationship with control. But you're so fucking unpredictable I don't understand you. You shot me for protecting you. You fight me all the time over _doing my job_. You're so fucking destructive.”

Moriarty's eyes glitter. “Don't think about it too hard.”

The blond frowns down at him. “What do you mean by that?”

The small man puffs air through his cheeks mockingly. “You could work it out. But don't bother.”

Sebastian growls and captures the brat's throat harshly under his teeth.

The brunet gives an unguarded yelp. “S-Sebastian..!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty was supposed to get some sort of comeuppance this chapter, but it kept growing, so I've split them into two parts. For those of you wondering.

Sebastian chuckles at the sound of his squealed first name. “You can start making things up to me by saying that over and over...”

Moriarty tries to keep his expression neutral. “Sebastian… you've just been _shot_.”

The blond growls against the smaller man's aching neck. “Yes. And I promise you that later I'm going to give you the beating of your _life_ for that.”

Moriarty tenses a little and nods, but wriggles to put his hand on Moran's arm. “Fine. But aren't you _sore_?”

Sebastian kisses the brunet's little ear. “Of course I'm bloody sore. That's the only reason I don't have you bent over, bleeding and snivelling right now.”

“The only reason?” Moriarty murmurs.

“Of course the only...” Moran trails off and pulls back, taking the weight from his arms, and more importantly, his burning shoulder. “I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you mean.”

“It wasn't, but don't you think you should be?” the brunet asks frankly. “You did say I'm destructive.”

The big man shrugs. “You shot me at point blank range. If you'd wanted to fire one between my eyes, hell, if you'd wanted to shoot me in the gut and make me suffer… you could have. You didn't.”

Moriarty turns his face away but puts a restraining hand on the blond's good shoulder as the bodyguard shrugs. “Stop doing that. All that movement can't be good for you and it must hurt.”

Moran fixes him with a look. “What's it to you?”

Moriarty tenses his jaw a little. “Just do as you're told, yeah? It's in your best interest… Sebastian.”

Blue eyes blink slowly. “...I don't _understand_ you.”

“You don't need to,” Moriarty dismisses.

“I _want_ to,” the blond growls.

Moriarty's expression is unreadable. Sebastian sighs and moves closer again, worrying the shell of his employer's ear with possessive teeth.

“Shouldn't you be crashing by now?” Moriarty questions. “You should be exhausted. Especially after eating.”

Moran raises his shoulders again but the brunet reaches out to stop the motion. “I am getting tired, but I'm still kind of wired,” Sebastian admits. “Being this sore makes me needy and you know...”

“Horny?” Moriarty supplies dryly. “You're in no fit state. You need rest.”

“I need a tumble, and then I'll rest, probably,” Moran responds.

Moriarty turns his head to face the man previously chewing upon his ear. “You need sleep.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Seriously? No sympathy for your brave boy? Fine, I'll accept a fumble...”

His employer presses his lips together. “I'll give you a blow job. If you never mention it again, and go straight to sleep.”

Moran bolts up to look at the smaller man properly. “But you _never_...”

“Don't fuss, or I'll take it back,” Moriarty warns, sounding both stern and uneasy. He looks almost vulnerable for a moment. “You have had a hell of a day.”

His bodyguard hesitates. “If you think you can get around me every time you shoot me with a quick suck...”

Moriarty's body language shuts down a little but his eyes flicker. “I don't intend to get in the habit of shooting you.”

Moran gives a short, mostly mirthless laugh. “That almost sounded like an apology.”

Moriarty clasps his own arms uneasily, not quite managing to keep his face devoid of emotion. “Of course, you're smart enough to know I never apologise.”

Sebastian raises his brows dryly. “I am?”

The brunet looks away. “Quit fussing, you child.”

Moran slaps the smaller man's thigh pointedly with his good arm. “You _shot_ me.”

Moriarty bites his lip as heat and pain spread beneath his trouser leg. “I'm not an easy person to work with,” he acknowledges.

“I don't understand what's so difficult about not shooting the guy you pay to keep you alive,” Moran grumbles.

“I… It's harder than you think,” Moriarty sighs.

The blond raises his brows sardonically. “Is my company that bad? I swear I keep my singing in the shower to a minimum.”

Moriarty's lips barely twitch. “It's more being around any human for extended periods of time.”

“How did my predecessors cope?”

The brunet sucks his lip uncomfortably for a moment before admitting, “The only ones who usually last this long are normally invisible until they're needed.”

Sebastian frowns uncomfortably. “Are you saying..?”

Moriarty rolls his eyes, his arms still crossed defensively. “They don't usually find themselves shot in the _shoulder_.”

Moran is quiet for a beat. “So… what makes me so special?”

His employer grimaces. “You're not special.”

“You just said...”

“ _You're not special_ ,” Moriarty repeats sharply, clearly uneasy.

Moran doesn't buy it. “Very convincing. How many of my predecessors have you offered to get on your knees and suck?”

Moriarty's face goes blank.

Sebastian's jaw drops in astonishment. It snaps the brunet out of his stillness and Moriarty quickly protests, “Don't get some stupid idea in your head, jumping to conclusions! There have been _plenty_ -”

“No there haven't,” the bodyguard interrupts. “I know your faces.”

Moriarty frowns unhappily. “You most certainly don't know that one.”

Moran ignores him. “Come here.”

Moriarty leans back. “Keep your stupid, tactile fantasies to yourself, Moran.”

Sebastian gives him a look. “You call me that again today and I'll heat your tailbone. I've still got one good arm, and you're damn well going to be nice to me.”

The brunet makes a face. “It's your _name_.”

“It's you creating distance,” Sebastian retorts.

“We're hardly best buddies,” Moriarty spits. “ _Sebastian._ ”

“Don't get clever,” the blond warns.

“I am clever, or had you forgotten?” Moriarty responds sourly.

“You're not acting like it,” Sebastian retorts.

The brunet glares.

Sebastian sighs. “I don't want to argue with you.”

“Then don't-”

“Is it really so hard to admit I mean something to you?” the larger man snaps.

Moriarty swallows. “You don't-”

“I can tell when you're lying,” Sebastian reminds him coolly.

“I'm not lying.”

“Boss...”

“ _I'm not lying_ ,” the little man insists.

Sebastian growls. “ _Come here._ ”

Moriarty cringes. “Sebastian, drop it and leave it alone, will you?” he whines.

The blond rolls his eyes and tugs the smaller man forcibly into his chest. “Is this so difficult?”

Moriarty stays tense and does not raise his head. “It's not difficult; it's distasteful.”

“I'll have you know I'm considered quite attractive,” Sebastian grumbles.

“Even with your extra ventilation?” Moriarty teases quietly.

“I'll put some ventilation in you,” the blond warns playfully, leaning down to nip his employer's neck.

“Ow,” Moriarty protests mildly.

Sebastian laughs. “ _Really_? I got shot but you're complaining about some love bites?”

“Don't call them that for fuck's sake,” the little brunet sniffs. “And you can stop yammering on: I _know_ you got shot. I was there: I pulled the trigger.”

The bigger man tenses. “Anyone would think you _wanted_ me to hand you your hide,” he growls.

“Later,” Moriarty dismisses. “You're driving me nuts; will you just get some rest?”

“ _I'm_ driving _you_..?” Sebastian splutters.

“Don't start another argument with me,” Moriarty sighs. “Just please get some rest.”

The blond tilts his jaw. “I believe there was a carrot.”

“Fine,” Moriarty agrees. “But get into bed first. I'm doing this on the agreement that you go to sleep straight after.”

“Straight?” Sebastian teases.

“Bed, Moran,” the brunet commands exasperatedly.

“Which?” Sebastian asks.

Moriarty gives him a puzzled look. “Mine, obviously.”

“Sure you'll let me spend the night this time?” Sebastian asks dryly.

Moriarty stills then makes a face. “I was feeling… Never mind. Yes, I'll let you sleep in my bed.”

“Feeling what?” the blond presses.

“Nothing, just-”

“Boss. Feeling what? Mad at me for seeing you sick? Did I do something? What?” Sebastian questions.

Moriarty looks away. “I wasn't mad at you.”

Sebastian curls his lip. “Pretty sure you were mad at me.”

Moriarty walks on ahead. “Trust me, that wasn't about me being mad at _you_. You were just trying to please me as usual.”

Sebastian pauses. “Then what the fuck did I do?”

“You're not listening. Well, you're probably tired,” Moriarty amends. “I didn't punish you for doing something wrong.”

“Then what the hell did you punish me for?” the blond protests, sounding more hurt than angry.

Moriarty sighs and keeps his back turned. “Sebastian, what happens when men in my line of work show weakness?” he asks carefully.

“They get- oh.” Sebastian follows quickly. “But I wouldn't… I'm loyal, you know that.”

Moriarty keeps his face turned away. “Even so. Supposing you're _completely_ , stupidly loyal. What happens if I show you kindness outside? Even just once, a total slip?”

“You look weak,” Sebastian states.

“Yes. Or?”

The bodyguard considers. “I look like your weakness.”

“So did you do anything wrong?” Moriarty continues.

“No?” Sebastian hazards.

“There you are then. Don't take it personally, unless you need the reminder to stay uninvolved.”

Sebastian stares at his employer's back. Bravely he asks, “Who says I'm uninvolved?”

Moriarty still doesn't turn around. “You better be uninvolved, and stay that way,” he asserts sternly, then disappears inside his bedroom.

His bodyguard follows. “I...”

Moriarty finally looks at him. “Stop talking.”

Sebastian gazes at his employer instead, feeling odd. His pulse is elevated from the conversation, as though anticipating hearing something he knows Moriarty won't say. Instead of grounding him, the pain in his shoulder makes him giddier still.

The boss is right: he needs to rest. But his nerves are too shot for sleep.

Moriarty stands awkwardly before seeming to realise Moran's going to have a hard time undoing his own belt and fly with limited dexterity, and his suit trousers are too well tailored to easily push down with one hand.

Sebastian himself hadn't yet made it to that conclusion, but he works it out as the short man approaches and unbuckles him. His shirt already removed by Ian, Sebastian allows himself to be stripped, feeling excited and vulnerable from the experience.

He feels a thrill as Moriarty lightly runs a palm down his oversensitive skin. “Go lie down,” the brunet orders softly.

Sebastian obeys quietly. He frowns a little as he realises it is impossible to get comfortable.

Moriarty kicks off his shoes and joins the blond. He takes the half-full transfusion bag and wedges it carefully against the headboard.

“We should really have been keeping this elevated to let it flow properly,” he explains.

Sebastian shrugs. “Don't worry about it.”

“ _Why_ do you keep shrugging?” Moriarty exclaims, sounding exasperated.

“It's fine,” Sebastian says.

“It's not. I know from experience that it's not,” the brunet argues. “You know fine well that hurts.”

“I can take a bit of pain, it's hardly anything,” Sebastian mutters.

“Piss off with your macho posturing. It's not gonna heal if you don't let it rest.”

“You _hit_ me in my wound earlier,” Sebastian protests.

“Yes, but I'm your… Fine. I'll leave it alone, but you need to treat it carefully too,” Moriarty scolds.

The bodyguard quirks his brows. “You're my what?” he smirks.

Moriarty smacks the larger man's scarred nose. “I am your _employer_ and I _own your worthless soul_. Don't get smart.”

“Do you really want to keep hitting me when you know what you've got coming to you, boss?” Sebastian asks sweetly.

His slight employer rolls his eyes. “You're not beating me for at least a weak. Preferably a month. You'll hurt yourself.”

“I don't have to put my back into it,” Sebastian states. “I could burn you. Or electrocute you. You know, there are options.”

“You are not electrocuting me,” Moriarty insists sternly. “I'd be more inclined to let you shoot me back.”

Sebastian blinks. “You'd let me shoot you?”

“No,” the brunet snorts, but his dark eyes flicker upwards and say, 'maybe.' 

“I wouldn't shoot you,” Sebastian muses. “Goes against my whole purpose.”

“Hurting me doesn't?” Moriarty asks archly.

“You fucking asked for it,” Sebastian responds.

“Did not,” Moriarty mutters, dropping his gaze. He wriggles slightly further down the bed, his suit making a swishing noise against the sheets, and leans against his bodyguard's thigh.

“You can break one bone,” he offers.

Sebastian frowns. “What?”

“One bone,” Moriarty repeats. “Any one you like. But only one.”

Sebastian's expression twitches. “I… I'm not sure I intended doing anything to you that would cause real harm.”

Moriarty stares down at blond leg hair, affecting interest in it. “Bones heal. I'm not saying you get to mutilate me.”

The bodyguard lifts Moriarty's reluctant face. “You sure as hell wouldn't offer that to anyone else.”

The brunet pulls away. “Shut up, Moran.”

Sebastian considers. “Then give me something else to occupy my mouth.”

Moriarty's eyes flick up. “What?”

“Kiss me. Then you can suck me,” says the blond.

Moriarty's nose wrinkles. “I don't kiss.”

“You don't normally give blow jobs either,” Sebastian points out. “Put some effort in if you want to win me over.”

“I don't need to win you over; I pay you,” Moriarty huffs.

The bodyguard sighs and reaches out to snatch the smaller man's tie and drag him up close. The brunet tries to push away a bit, but gets nowhere.

“Come on, boss,” Sebastian teases. “Not scared, are you?”

Moriarty narrows his eyes. “I'm regretting my choice to keep you alive.”

Sebastian sighs, judges how much give his tube has, and wrestles the smaller man onto the mattress. “Watch your mouth,” he warns.

“Sebastian, that's got to be hurting your shoulder,” Moriarty protests.

“It is, but you wouldn't do as you were told,” the blond answers.

The small man starts to sigh, but his eyes widen as Moran's mouth drops over his. Moriarty tenses for a moment, then accepts the kiss and runs his hand through Sebastian's short hair.

He wriggles away. “Fine, I'll give you what you want, but get on your back. I don't want to hurt you.”

Sebastian gives a mildly suspicious smile. “Really?”

“For the moment,” Moriarty teases. He pushes against his bodyguard's larger frame and settles against him when the man submits.

Sebastian quivers as his little psychopath's lips brush his mouth, then suddenly Moriarty's knees are just under Sebastian's arms and a small hand is wrapped around a strong jaw and Sebastian's lip is being bitten and Sebastian's good arm is pulling Moriarty down closer _and he's not the only one groaning appreciatively_.

Moriarty draws away a little and reaches for Sebastian's cock. The brunet trails a series of nips and bites down his panting bodyguard's chest then settles in the man's lap. He hesitates a little, his hand running absently down Sebastian's shaft.

“You okay?” the blond whispers.

Moriarty nods, still staring, then dips down and greets the interested member. Sebastian shivers as he feels a tongue press firmly against his tip, swirling wickedly then tugging teasingly. Apparently however long it's been, Moriarty did once know what to do with his little mouth.

The brunet wraps a hand around Sebastian's length and pumps skillfully as he hollows his cheeks and gets to work. Sebastian squirms, trying not to buck his hips too much, because Moriarty's only a little thing and Sebastian's fairly well endowed. 

Moriarty scratches Sebastian's hip and belly a little with his free hand and bobs his little skull lower and lower each time. The muscular blond enjoys the touch, but brings a hand gently to Moriarty's forehead. “You'll choke.”

Moriarty gives a growl that makes Sebastian's toes curl approvingly and pulls away the large hand, holding it against Sebastian's hip. Moriarty takes the blond's cock deeper and deeper into his throat, and Sebastian whimpers, canting up his hips desperately although he tries very hard not to.

Moriarty seems to enjoy using a bit of teeth, but he's careful about it, and Sebastian loves it. He lifts his hand to run his fingers through the brunet's hair, and Moriarty takes the opportunity to grasp Sebastian's balls. He tugs and teases playfully, grinning around Sebastian's dick at the way the blond curses breathily.

Moriarty sucks and sucks and sucks, and Sebastian starts to feel trembly and electric and hot. He moans wantonly as his brunet does something that sounds wet and feels amazing, burying his nose in Sebastian's pubic hair what feels like every few fucking seconds, his throat gliding like a pro, and then he spares Sebastian a glance upwards just as the blond approaches the edge.

Sebastian climaxes with a roar, reaching up to the headboard to prevent grabbing his employer's head. It twinges his shoulder something fucking awful, but he doesn't bloody care because he's in fucking heaven.

Moriarty sits up, rubbing at his watering eyes casually and licking the side of his mouth. “You're welcome, _Sebastian_.”

Sebastian smiles and touches him fondly. “You want to shoot me again? Might be worth it.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “Get to sleep. You promised.”

The bodyguard feels exhausted and floaty, but brushes his fingers along his employer's hip. “You want a hand first?”

“I want you to get some rest,” Moriarty responds with an odd mixture of sternness and tenderness.

Sebastian decides to push his luck just a little bit further. “You'll snuggle me, right? Since I'm all sore and shit?”

“That'll be the fucking day,” Moriarty responds. He steps away to undress then approaches the headboard. “You're about done with this, let me take the drip out before you fall asleep, yeah? Don't want you hurting yourself.”

Sebastian watches Moriarty's deft hands, surprised a little by their gentleness. “Thanks.”

The brunet puts the equipment on the night table and curls into Sebastian's good side. “Bring this up ever and I'll kill you,” he warns.

Sebastian regards Moriarty with surprise, but smiles and wraps his arms around pale shoulders. “Secret's safe with me, boss.”


	15. Chapter 15

Sebastian wakes to excessive, disorienting pain and a weight on his chest. He thrashes for a moment, before the realisation comes that the body on top of him is a sleeping Moriarty and the raw burning ache is a gunshot wound.

Little fucker.

Moriarty stirs at his pillow's agitation and blinks blearily at Moran in the dim light. “You're sweating.” He takes in the sight of the bandage and winces. “Of course. You need meds. Hang on.”

Sebastian wonders whether he's feverish or still sleeping as his typically brittle employer peels himself away and trots out of the room.

For Sebastian. Moriarty just got out of bed to _fetch_ something for Sebastian.

Definitely a weird dream.

But no, the short man returns with painkillers and a bottle of chilled water with a sports cap.

“Christ, who knew you could feel guilty?” Sebastian mutters, rubbing his head as he pulls himself painfully up to a sitting position.

“I'm not guilty,” Moriarty mutters. “It's in my best interest to have you back in top condition as soon as possible. You're good at your job.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and reaches for the painkillers. “Thought I was replaceable?”

Moriarty uncaps the bottle and hands it over. “Who else would thrash me and fuck me over my own desk?” he responds carefully.

Sebastian chortles and presses a palm to his wound as the movement pains him. “I'm sure there would be other takers if they weren't too terrified of you to eye up your wonderful arse.”

“Mm, well you had best get better quickly then. Don't want my head turned, do you?” the brunet murmurs. He sits on the edge of the bed. “Do you need anything else?”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boss?” Sebastian responds.

Moriarty smirks. “It's the middle of the night. You won't remember a thing if I'm nice to you. And if you do, you'd best be smart enough to 'forget' it.”

Sebastian makes a face. “Don't give me that, smart arse. I want more of the chill Moriarty, I like him.”

Moriarty rolls his eyes. “I'm not going to be nice to you just because you're in pain. I'm not nurturing.”

Sebastian shakes his water bottle pointedly. “That wasn't you who put me to bed with an ace blowie and held me whilst I slept, then?”

Moriarty takes the bottle and hits Moran lightly with it. “We discussed that. It didn't happen, remember?”

The blond bats him away. “It's not kind to hit invalids you know.”

“These pills must be stronger than I thought if you think I could be kind,” Moriarty scoffs.

Sebastian chucks him under the chin bravely. “You have your moments,” he teases.

Moriarty gives him a sour look. Sebastian snatches away the bottle before he can be struck with it again.

“Go back to sleep, Moran,” Moriarty commands.

Sebastian considers. He is still tired and so very sore. He gets out of bed anyway. “In a minute. I need to piss and my mouth feels like death. Forgot to brush my teeth.”

The brunet gives him a guarded look and gestures to the en suite. “You can use my toothbrush since it's closer. Purely this once; I catch you doing it again and you'll need dentures.”

“Prince Fucking Charming you are,” Sebastian states dryly.

Moriarty rolls his eyes and climbs back into bed, letting Moran's remaining body heat from the bedding ease his chill. Sebastian grins as he turns his back. There's something endearing about the little brunet's content smile as he burrows into the dip Sebastian has left in the mattress.

Moriarty looks tired when Sebastian returns and his dark eyes glitter in the gloom. “Waiting up for me?” Sebastian teases.

“Don't be stupid,” the brunet replies, although it's blatantly obvious he has fought sleep to do so.

“If you say so,” Sebastian responds calmly. He hopes his damned shoulder will somewhat ease its throbbing soon. He crosses to the bed and gently touches Moriarty's side. “Budge up.”

His employer wriggles over with bizarre obedience. Sebastian runs a hand over the slight form as he climbs in beside him. “I could get used to you being such a good boy for me.”

Moriarty turns and affects a sleepy glare in the dark. “I'm no one's _boy_.”

Sebastian hums and brushes his fingers over fresh, dark stubble. “I dunno, you certainly don't look your age when you shave.”

Moriarty curls his lip and bites Moran's fingers very, very gently.

Sebastian swallows and cuddles close. “You'd best stop that or your boxers will be coming off pronto.”

Moriarty smiles against the bigger man's skin. “You need your rest, slut.”

Sebastian purses his lips and imagines falling asleep inside the brat's tight little arse. His shoulder twinges. Sighing, he squeezes his employer's rump and kisses Moriarty's jaw. “You're right, sadly.”

The brunet smiles a little and leans closer. “Take all your meds when you're supposed to, get plenty of rest, and I'll let you fuck me hard when you're better.”

Sebastian laughs softly, giving another firm squeeze. “Alright.”

Moriarty's eyelids drift closed. “Now get some sleep.”

Sebastian gazes at him for a moment, then drops a kiss on the brunet's ear and settles in to sleep too. “Yeah, alright,” he murmurs.

When Sebastian next wakes he is hungry, and Moriarty is watching him with a guarded expression. The blond stretches. “You want me to get out of your bed?”

Moriarty chuckles dryly. “Yes, but don't move.” He swallows. “Are you up to eating breakfast?”

Moran raises his brows. “I'm ravenous, but you're a poisoner.”

Moriarty examines his hands. “Like you said: I could have killed you, but I didn't.”

Sebastian chews his lip and leans against the pillows. “Maybe you just want me to suffer.”

“Perhaps,” the brunet muses. He draws away. “Sleep some more if you can. I'll get you fed and dosed.”

Blue eyes watch him skeptically, but quickly drift closed. Sebastian wakes again to the tantalising scent of cooking meat.

Moriarty wouldn't possibly…

Sebastian is pretty certain Ian's meds are far stronger than he first supposed, as Moriarty returns to the bedroom. The blond sits up quickly. “Is that for me?”

Moriarty arches a brow. “No, I brought this through just so you can watch me eat.”

Sebastian looks at him mistrustfully.

Moriarty narrows his eyes. “Of course this is for you, you fucking imbecile.”

Sebastian inhales. “How poisoned is it?”

“Just eat the fucking thing before I crack the plate over your thick skull, alright?” the brunet grumbles.

Sebastian accepts the meal humbly and stares down at it. He wonders whether Moriarty has any concept of normal portion sizes. There's _eight_ bits of bacon, some sausages, egg, potato scones, fried tomatoes and mushrooms.

“Where's the baked beans?” Sebastian teases.

Moriarty glowers at him. “Like I could trust you with those near my bedding.”

Sebastian quirks a brow. “Because there's no grease or anything messy about anything else on my plate.”

Moriarty casually lifts a Cumberland from Sebastian and settles against the headboard. “Be a good boy and eat up all your breakfast, Sebastian, or Daddy's going to have to spank your bottom.”

Sebastian laughs heartily and almost stains the bedding with his entire breakfast. “Oh, enjoying the role reversal, are you?”

His employer smirks around a mouthful of pork. “Might be.”

Sebastian rolls his sore shoulder slightly and starts to eat. He closes his eyes. “I don't care if it's poisoned; this is exactly what I needed.”

Moriarty nods and offers up the painkillers.

“Who's going to look after you today?” Sebastian asks.

“I'm not going out,” Moriarty responds carefully.

The blond's forehead creases. “Didn't you have meetings?”

“All I need to focus on today are emails,” his employer replies unconvincingly.

“Okay,” Sebastian says slowly. “Should I leave?”

“I can concentrate perfectly well whilst you sleep,” Moriarty responds. He picks up Sebastian's dirty plate and moves towards the door. “Which I absolutely expect you to be doing by the time I have showered.”

Sebastian slouches down and pulls the quilt over himself. “Don't need to tell me twice, boss,” he mumbles sleepily.

Moriarty observes the man for just a second then strides through to the kitchen sink. He eyes the used frying pan disgustedly then decides to go straight to the shower.

Sebastian briefly wakes when Moriarty returns to bed with his laptop. The blond is kind of sure he's not sleeping when his employer gives him a soft smile and strokes his short hair, but afterwards he can't quite believe that happened.

Moriarty wakes Sebastian by holding the scarred nose closed until his bodyguard bolts upwards, gasping. Quickly assessing the situation, Moran flashes a glare in his employer's direction.

“Was it getting too cozy for your liking?” he snaps.

“You were snoring,” Moriarty complains calmly.

Sebastian glances quickly at his shoulder, the wound too high for his lungs to have any issues. “I don't snore.”

“Oh yes,” Moriarty says. “I was waking you for more pills.”

Sebastian huffs. “Keep this up and I'm going to give you a good licking with my belt when I'm better healed.”

“Promises promises,” Moriarty responds with a roll of his eyes.

His behaviour fluctuates between diligent and bratty for the next few days. Sebastian enjoys the utterly out of character attention, but is relieved by the moments where Moriarty is his normal, slightly less frightening, self. Who isn't really less frightening, just more familiar.

“Boss?” 

Moriarty glances up from his screen. “Hmm?”

Sebastian chooses his words slowly. “Shouldn't you hire another bodyguard for in here whilst I'm out of action?”

The brunet raises a brow. “I'm sure the boys downstairs are sufficient.”

Sebastian nods quietly.

Moriarty gives him an intense look then returns calmly to his emails. “Enjoy your nap time whilst you can, Moran, it won't be long until I'll be expecting you to earn your keep in other ways.”

“S'Sebastian,” Sebastian grumbles softly.

“Yes, my Sebastian,” Moriarty declares, giving the blond's hair a tug just hard enough to hurt.

The bodyguard looks up with a reservedly hopeful look. “Yours?”

“Mm. Brave, loyal boy, aren't you?” Moriarty praises, running his thumb over the skin he has just yanked.

“Took a bullet for you,” Sebastian sniffs. He holds out his wrist to indicate the red scar there. “Twice, in fact.” 

Moriarty smirks over his screen. “Maybe I'll reward you when you're better. Let you punish me.”

Sebastian sits up and puts a hand on the top of the laptop, not closing it over. “I could punish you now, if you liked.”

Moriarty looks surprised for a moment. “P... _punish_ me, punish me? Am I supposed to enjoy that one?”

Sebastian frowns. “Why would you take a punishment you didn't want?”

Moriarty presses his lips together tightly.

Sebastian closes the laptop and puts it aside. The brunet seems somewhat adrift without the barrier.

“Boss.”

Moriarty's gaze snaps up reluctantly.

When he speaks, Sebastian's voice is soft but laced with delicious, warning threat. “Do you want me to punish you?”

Moriarty swallows. “I...”

Sebastian runs his thumb heavily against the man's throat. “You..?”

Moriarty gives a small nod.

“I need to hear your words,” Sebastian prompts.

“Please. Yes,” the brunet whispers.

Sebastian steps off of the bed and uses his good arm to drag Moriarty by the skull. The little man hisses, but is careful to avoid Sebastian's gunshot wound as he struggles.

The bigger man leads Moriarty to the kitchen sink and pins the man with a large hand around the nape of a tiny neck. He pointedly fills the sink.

Moriarty turns ashen. “You wouldn't,” he mumbles.

Sebastian picks up a spoon from the draining rack and presses it into the smaller man's palm. “Hold that tight, and drop it if you need me to stop or pause. Yes?”

Moriarty stares down at the teaspoon. It feels like an anchor in an ocean of trepidation. “Yes,” he whispers.

Sebastian clears away the odd utensil and cup to protect his little criminal hurting himself when thrashing about. The sink continues to fill.

“You ever did this before?” the blond asks.

“Not for fun,” Moriarty answers, eyeing the water.

Sebastian gives him a wry look. “Oh, you think this is going to be fun, do you?”

Moriarty shivers. “Not in its entirety, but you have your moments.”

“Do I indeed?” the blond drawls in a masterful, seductive voice.

The short brunet bites his lip unconsciously. It sends a spark right to Sebastian's groin.

“Say when,” the blond commands.

Moriarty raises a brow. “I don't normally-”

Sebastian lets go and spanks the brunet with his good arm. “Boss,” he warns.

Moriarty makes a face, then inches closer to the sink and steels himself.

“When you're ready,” he says mildly, not taking his gaze off of the water.

Sebastian waits only long enough to drink in Moriarty's anxiety, then snatches the deserving little brat and dunks him deep into the filled sink.

The brunet stays very still for a beat, then starts to thrash violently.

Sebastian counts silently in his head, watching Moriarty intently and ignoring how the little wriggling arse feels against his cock. 

The heavy splashing eases. The air bubbles Moriarty had been blowing to keep water out of his lungs become fewer and fewer.

Sebastian hauls him up.

Moriarty absolutely gasps like a drowning man offered his first breath of air, but before he can do more than splutter, Sebastian pushes him back down again.

There's not enough air in his lungs. Moriarty fights, everything burning, and then he feels things growing distant and the hand on his neck doesn't seem so heavy anymore...

Sebastian lets him go.

Moriarty shudders and gasps in breath after breath urgently.

The brunet cackles, but even with his face wet Sebastian recognises the tears. He is about to stop the game, even though Moriarty hasn't dropped the spoon yet, when the brunet shifts his weight pointedly.

He's as hard as fucking granite.

“Sick little fuck,” Sebastian chuckles approvingly. “You're supposed to be getting _punished_.”

“Maybe you should try harder,” Moriarty sasses when he gets his breath back.

Sebastian doesn't say a word, just grabs the little shortarse and shoves him right back down in the water again, deep enough that Moriarty can barely stay on his toes.

Moriarty struggles hard, but he's starting to tire from the overexcitement. Sebastian counts the air bubbles diligently.

Moriarty starts to droop.

Sebastian holds him under a little longer still, the spoon still not dropping, then rips his employer out from under the water.

Moriarty heaves an enormous breath then splutters and gasps and chokes for several minutes. He's certain without Moran to hold him upright he would crumple right to the drenched floor.

Sebastian fondles him softly. “How'd you feel?”

Moriarty ignores him in favour of leaping for his mouth and latching on with an excessive amount of teeth and tongue. Sebastian is not at all displeased and retaliates fiercely, forcing the narrow frame against the counter.

“I'm going to fuck you,” he snarls, using his good arm to yank Moriarty's head back. The brunet groans in agreement and scrabbles against the wet counter as Sebastian bites down.

Moriarty splutters out a laugh as Sebastian reaches for a bottle of Fairy liquid. “You've got… a fucking weird… sense of humour, fucker...”

“Who says I'm joking?” Sebastian drawls darkly.

Moriarty thinks he ought form some sort of protest, but then Moran's manhandling him fiercely, and he's missed this missed this missed this, and suddenly Sebastian's first finger is inside. By that point there's no way in hell he's going to permit his bodyguard to do anything other than continue.

The dish soap isn't the worst thing he's ever tried.

Afterwards Sebastian seems content to mouth him for an excessive amount of time, and Moriarty does them the inordinate favour of permitting this.

“You've still got a bone,” Moriarty whispers.

Sebastian reaches out and takes one of the man's small hands. He separates the ring finger, a bone fairly disposable, and draws it to his teeth, biting hard enough that Moriarty bares his own in pain.

“Right here,” Sebastian promises, pulling away just enough for his lips to brush Moriarty's fingertip, “is where I'll break you, if I ever think you need reminded. You're safe for now.”

Moriarty traces his fingers over Sebastian's mouth, recognising from the brightness of the blue eyes that the sensation tingles. “Want to put that mouth somewhere else?”

The bodyguard grins wickedly. “Not your arse. I bet you taste like bubbles.”


	16. Chapter 16

Sebastian expects Moriarty to get bored and go back to work, summoning a replacement bodyguard in the interim. However, his slight employer continues to correspond via email and phone calls without once mentioning a return. The closest he comes to leaving is accepting deliveries from his other subordinates or making vicious threats to people partway around the world.

Moriarty is by no means a coddler, and sometimes Sebastian wonders whether the brunet remembers he is there, but the unspoken care is present. Sebastian quite enjoys it.

He's not sure whether Moriarty worries their time together will become too companionable. The brunet finds chores and uses for Sebastian more and more as the bodyguard heals. They vary in pleasantness, but having things to do does keep Sebastian from going stir crazy.

Although, sometimes he feels embarrassingly like a kept pet. On occasion this leads him to neglect his chores, which leads to Moriarty yanking his chain a bit. That sort of embarrassment is a lot easier for Sebastian to handle.

Ultimately though the bodyguard enjoys his current situation. He finds things to do to make himself useful, knowing he is unlikely to receive praise, but feeling good anyway. Periodically Moriarty will surprise him with a look of approval, and rarely even a startling compliment.

The more Sebastian heals the more he starts to take over the food preparations. “Why do you have zero tins in your cupboards?” he questions one day. “Beans on toast is the height of comfort food.”

His brunet visibly shudders.

“I won't have them in my house,” Moriarty declares.

“You're such a snob,” Sebastian snorts fondly.

Moriarty gives him an odd look. “Am I?” he says blankly. It's the way the muscles around his eyes tighten that reminds Sebastian with a jolt that the brunet grew up with an addict mother _that he tried to kill_. Negligent at the very least? Moriarty's a grown (well not so grown) man now and he still doesn't know how to feed himself adequately. Probably why he's so damned stunted.

“Ah. Clever boy,” Moriarty says, not making eye contact but seeming to recognise the turning cogs within anyway. “Shall I order sea bass?”

Sebastian approaches and cages the man against the work surface. “Order whatever you like as long as you eat _lots_ of it.”

Moriarty arches a brow. “I don't know why you insist on trying to fatten me up, Moran.”

Sebastian nuzzles him. “Well you're always telling me you're not fragile but I get worried one of these days I'm going to snap your pelvis, pretty little runt...”

The blond grins and braces himself for a blow, but his employer merely gives him a frosty glare. Moriarty takes out his phone pointedly and orders food for one.

Sebastian frowns. “You need to eat.”

“Oh, I'll be eating,” Moriarty retorts. “But all _you_ will be consuming for the rest of the day after a comment like that, Moran, is _me_.”

The blond grins. “When's dinner time, boss?” he asks with sparkling eyes.

It's difficult to tell who benefits most from their current living arrangement, but they both enjoy it. Even if Moriarty would rather cook and eat his own tongue than suggest Sebastian's presence is a source of happiness.

Despite his 'chores' Sebastian grows somewhat spoilt. He forgets that his shoulder healing does not just mean Moriarty increasingly biting the tender scar tissue, but also means growing closer to the time when he returns to his usual work duties.

Before that happens, Moriarty has a meeting that really cannot be avoided.

Sebastian stares for a moment, utterly perplexed, as he watches his brunet put on shoes.

“Where are you going?”

Moriarty glances at him briefly, his face carefully schooled. “Work. I've taken enough time off as it is.”

Sebastian jolts up. “Why didn't you say? Let me get dressed.”

The brunet doesn't look over again, standing and straightening his suit. “You're not coming, moron.”

Sebastian feels an odd tightness in his chest. “What? But you need me to look after you.”  
Moriarty rolls his eyes. “I do have spares, Sebastian. Go back to bed and _rest_.”

The bodyguard feels a twinge of worry and jealousy at the thought of being replaced. He reaches for yesterday's teeshirt, even though he's never been allowed to work in less than a suit. “No, I'm coming.”

Moriarty's voice turns cold. “Moran, don't make me cross with you. Do as you're told _instantly_.”

Sebastian turns pleading blue eyes on his employer. “I'm recovered. Boss, I'm useful.”

Moriarty's face is expressionless. “No, you're not. You're a liability until I tell you you're well enough to resume all duties.”

“I'm not,” Sebastian insists.

The brunet turns dismissively and heads through the door. “Well _I'm_ not going to stand here all day arguing. I have a job to do, then I'll be back to check on you this afternoon.”

Sebastian follows urgently. “I'm not fragile!”

Moriarty turns and his dark eyes flash ominously. “Sebastian, this is not a conversation. I am giving you an order. Go and rest. Now.”

“Or what?”

Moriarty starts walking again. “Or, idiot, I shall punish you _soundly_ this afternoon.”

Sebastian clenches his fists, feeling vulnerable and useless and _hating_ it. “Fine.”

Moriarty slaps the lift's 'down' button and snarls, “Go back to bed!”

Sebastian sulks and returns to Moriarty's bedroom. _Pointless_. He feels the urge to lash out, break something, but it's the brunet's room and death would result.

Still.

Sebastian moves a heavy piece of his employer's furniture aside. He punches the wall now exposed, then punches and punches it again. His knuckles explode in fiery pain, skin protesting as it scrapes, but the blond only stops when the plaster crumbles from the brickwork and starts to look terribly damaged.

Sebastian takes a deep breath and pushes the obstruction back in front of the wall.

He catches sight of his split, swollen and bruised hands. Shit. Moriarty's going to be pissed after he demands to know what happened.

Stupid. Bloody stupid.

Sebastian puts the worst hand to his mouth, absently picking out bits of stone and paint from the petty wound. He feels a little calmer, but worry still gnaws at the pit of his stomach.

He goes and washes his hands, gritting his teeth against the sting even though Moriarty's not here to hear him wince.

Moran's shoulder bloody aches again.

'Fuck it,' he thinks bitterly. He stomps towards the bed and climbs back under the duvet. If Moriarty's going to go out without him then he might as well get more sleep.

The blond is half-drowsing when Moriarty returns. Apparently he's been getting far too comfortable with their living arrangement, because he doesn't stir much at the sound of the short man's footsteps.

Sebastian bolts upright as Moriarty swishes something through the air though.

“...What's that?” the blond asks apprehensively, although he recognises the item immediately.

Moriarty smirks and feigns a playful sort of innocence. “Oh, this? You're rather familiar with this form of punishment, are you not?”

Sebastian flicks his eyes to the rotten object from Moriarty and back again. “You know I am…” he says slowly.

“I think I've been spoiling you,” Moriarty announces. “Need to toughen you up and remind you to take orders properly if you want to come back out with me in the future. Or do you intend to stay my pet?”

Sebastian frowns at the floor. “I'm not a _pet_ ,” he argues with a lot less fire than normal.

“At least, not a well trained one,” the little brunet responds. “But I can fix that.”

Sebastian makes a noise of distress but finds himself moving towards his employer and the unpleasant object.

Moriarty's expression turns livid. The bodyguard halts in his tracks.

“Sebastian Moran, what the fuck did you do to those hands?” Moriarty demands harshly.

The large man shrinks in on himself. “I...”

“ _Are they broken_? Bring yourself here _now_ ,” the brunet barks.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a second. He drags his feet as he obeys.

Moriarty snatches up the large wrists and examines the scabbed knuckles. “How the fuck did you do this? Can you still make a fist?”

“They're not broken,” Sebastian states dully.

Moriarty quite forgets for a moment what he is carrying, and instead uses his free arm to spin the much larger man around (somehow). Sebastian cannot help but cry out as the brunet spanks him with what feels like the entire force of his strength.

“I didn't think it needed saying that you are _forbidden_ to get hurt without my permission!” Moriarty admonishes angrily.

“M'sorry,” the blond blurts. Something twists in his gut and flutters in his chest.

Moriarty reaches up and snatches Sebastian's jaw painfully, forcing the larger man to meet his eyes. “When I give you an order you fucking follow it and that's an end to it. You _do not_ throw a tantrum behind my back that gets you hurt, much less impedes on your ability to work for me.”

Sebastian swallows. “I… It was stupid. I won't do it again.”

Moriarty shakes his head. “Bare your arse and bend over the bed.”

Sebastian gives him an uneasy look but does not dare disobey. He feels worse than a stupid little kid positioned thus; back then he always had anger to get him through the indignity.

Right now his stomach is squirming because the disproportionate fury Moriarty is displaying suggests that he is _protective_ of the blond's wellbeing.

Even if he did bring home a fucking cane.

“I was going to go easy on you, but you've really pissed me off,” Moriarty growls. “I can't leave you alone for _a few fucking hours_?”

Sebastian is quiet.

Moriarty whips the cane through the air, and Sebastian chokes at the white hot line of pain. It hurts a lot worse than he remembers.

“I asked you a fucking question!”

“Sorry!” Sebastian blurts. “I won't do it again.”

“You'd best hope you don't,” Moriarty states darkly. He cracks the cane down harshly in three consecutive strokes. Sebastian grunts and shifts his weight uncomfortably.

Moriarty continues, his face almost apathetic as he thrashes the larger man. He feels his temper start to recede as Sebastian whines and squirms, struggling to keep quiet.

“I like to _hear_... _you_...” the brunet chides, thrashing over lines already raising on Moran's skin.

Sebastian fists the duvet. “Fucking… hurts,” he admits softly.

“Still feel like giving me backchat?” Moriarty questions, swinging his arm back cruelly over and over.

Sebastian moans. “No,” he insists in a voice close to a sob.

His employer watches as Sebastian's skin changes colour with every touch. Whites and pinks and reds and purples criss cross over each other.

Moriarty puts his back into the next blow. The kneeling blond howls, bringing his fist close to bite down near his wounds, then remembering Moriarty's assertion and letting the noise spill out.

“That's it,” the brunet murmurs. He canes the larger man again. “Now, what about that naughtiness with your hands, hmm?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Sebastian insists, squirming as the unforgiving piece of wood curls over his throbbing, burning, swollen skin again and again.

“Your hands are mine,” Moriarty scolds. He continues to punish the blond as he lectures, “Your arse is mine. Your skin is mine. Your mind is mine. _You are mine_.”

Sebastian sobs out an agreement.

Moriarty tears the skin and keeps going until his blond starts to crumble properly. 

He drops down the cane and steps closer. Sebastian wipes frustratedly at his wet eyes. 

Moriarty cups Sebastian's ear softly for a moment then runs his hand down the blond's neck, shoulder and back. “Get on your stomach.”

Sebastian lets out a shuddering noise but pulls himself up further onto the mattress. Moriarty rubs the broken skin gently.

Sebastian sniffs. He doesn't remember ever coming apart like that after a caning before. Not so easily.

Moriarty gives his crown a kiss and continues to stroke him soothingly. “Shh, good boy, you did well,” he murmurs.

Sebastian nods just barely, hardly even noticing how peculiar the words are from the brunet's mouth.

“Punishment's over,” Moriarty continues. He taps Sebastian firmly. “Now don't you _dare_ argue with me like that again, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian whispers.

Moriarty tugs his hair slightly and curls a lip. “You're no good to me broken.”

“I'm healing up,” Sebastian says meekly.

Moriarty pets the well thrashed bodyguard for a while before responding. “Not like that. You're still weak and your reaction times are slower. That's why I wouldn't let you come today. Don't want you shot worse.”

Sebastian looks around quickly. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wet. “I didn't...”

“I know,” the brunet states. “You're a moron, Moran.”

Sebastian glances down for a moment, feeling stupid and relieved. “Thought you were pissed at me.”

Moriarty pinches the red bottom. “I was. You shouldn't argue with me when I'm right.”

Sebastian winces but gives a watery, teasing smile. “Are you saying sometimes you aren't?”

His employer gives him an exceptionally stern look. “...Are you saying I didn't cane you hard enough, Sebastian? Because that can be rectified.”

Sebastian shakes his head quickly.

“Good,” Moriarty responds shortly. He spreads Sebastian's raw cheeks without warning and drops to his knees. “Displease me again and I won't kiss you better.”

“U-Understood boss!” Sebastian bleats.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! T.T Thanks for joining me and the boys, and all the comments along the way. <3

Sebastian is sniffling and sore as Moriarty works a clever tongue over his entrance. The brunet's cheekbones against his savaged cheeks stings and aches fiercely, contrasting with the much gentler tingles of pleasure as Moriarty French kisses his entrance.

Eventually the brunet pauses, grinning languidly at the way Sebastian's cock has attached itself to the bedding by a string of gleaming, heavily dripping precum. Moriarty pats his bodyguard's very painful bottom.

“Go get the lube and I'll take you.”

Sebastian glances down at his swollen knuckles. He feels more than a little ashamed of his very noticeable flare of temper and bows his head uncomfortably. “I… don't think I deserve it.”

Moriarty's lips are an attractive, swollen red. He purses them. “I decide on your punishments; not you. I told you to do something.”

Sebastian feels a tingle in his stomach and swallows the instinct to argue. He fetches the lube obediently.

“That's my boy,” his employer mutters.

Sebastian feels something lighten in his chest again. “Yes, boss,” he answers, and cannot help but groan when Moriarty teases his hole with a slick finger.

The brunet is more gentle with the preparation than usual, although he teases the cut buttocks now and again with his free hand. He strokes, kneads and scratches, his eyes glittering approvingly as Sebastian moans.

“All mine, aren't you?” Moriarty drawls softly. Knowingly.

Sebastian nods desperately. “All yours.”

Moriarty's voice turns teasing as he twists his fingers just so. “Promise?”

Sebastian gasps deeply and pitches forwards a little. “Yes… Boss.”

“Especially this fuckhole here… It's all mine, isn't it?” Moriarty purrs.

Sebastian bites his lip quickly and pushes his bottom up further in agreement. “All yours. Just yours.”

Moriarty smirks and rubs his thumb over painful welts. “Did you touch yourself when I was out working today, Sebastian?”

The blond shakes his head quickly. “No.”

“Are you telling the truth? Did you touch what's mine, Sebastian?” Moriarty teases.

Sebastian's cock throbs hard with arousal, almost as though grabbed sharply by Moriarty's words. “I didn't!”

“Promise?” Moriarty asks with sparkling eyes.

“Promise!” blurts Sebastian. “S'yours. S'yours if you want it to be. I'll be so good...”

Moriarty smiles behind the blond's back and presses a kiss to Sebastian's raw bottom, fingers still working within, making the large man squirm. “Very good.”

The bodyguard squeezes his eyes shut. “Please. ...I want you inside.”

Moriarty wriggles his fingers pointedly. “I _am_ inside you, darling.”

Sebastian yelps and pitches forwards. “Meant your cock,” he whines.

Moriarty chuckles. “Needy boy today, aren't you? Is this what happens when I thrash you soundly?”

Sebastian is quiet.

His employer spanks him calmly.

The blond cries out painfully. “Yes sir,” he responds quickly.

“Quick learner,” Moriarty teases.

Sebastian groans an acknowledgement, wriggling his hips to ward off the fire burning across his bum.

“Now don't tease,” his brunet scolds lightly, pushing fingers deep up against Sebastian's prostate, “you don't want me to be rough with your well-striped arse, do you?”

Sebastian moans loudly. “I do,” he responds.

Moriarty chortles darkly. “Are you certain? The skin back here's already bruising.”

Sebastian squeezes his eyes closed again and pushes up his raw bottom. “Take me. Take me any way you want me.”

Moriarty scratches softly down the rippled, raw skin. “I want you exactly like this.”

“Please,” Sebastian says, “please, please cum in me.”

Moriarty chuckles. “Oh no. I'm going to pull out and cum all over your pretty red welts. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Sebastian's prick doesn't just twitch but seems to leap in joy, tapping his own stomach and leaving wetness behind. “Right now,” he says with difficulty. “I need you in me _right now_ , boss.”

The brunet tuts playfully. “Haven't you been acting spoiled today? Maybe I should make you work for my cock, darling.”

Sebastian whimpers. “I'll do anything. Just… please. I need you now.”

“So _greedy_ ,” Moriarty teases. “Spread your cheeks prettily for me. Give me an encouraging view, _Sebastian_.”

The blond gasps softly and reaches back, the cheeks of his face glowing almost as darkly as his behind. He pulls his globes from each other awkwardly, the welts and bruises complaining under his touch.

“Beautiful,” Moriarty praises, moving his fingers so very slowly.

Sebastian feels a rush of warmth.

Moriarty eases out his fingers and slicks himself up slowly. Sebastian sucks his lower lip in anticipation, and gasps exquisitely when the brunet's wet tip brushes the sensitive skin of his entrance.

“Slide back on me,” Moriarty orders.

Sebastian feels another strong throb and obeys willingly, moaning softly at the stretch.

His employer's breathing hitches as his cock is enclosed in tight heat. “Good boy...”

Sebastian tries not to mewl.

Moriarty pulls out and pushes back in firmly. “Who do you belong to?”

Sebastian makes a delicious noise. “You, boss,” he answers easily.

Moriarty gives a growl of approval and runs a hand over Sebastian's raw flesh. The bodyguard gasps and whimpers prettily as his broken skin is squeezed possessively.

Moriarty starts to set a pace. His snapping hips cause Sebastian's caned bottom to ache ferociously, but the blond cannot help but push back into the painful touch. He feels so good that a rash of tingling sparks spreads along his lower back and directly up his spine, warming his neck and the lobes of his ears. His toes wriggle uncontrollably. 

He doesn't want to be anywhere else. Ever.

Moriarty fucks him hard, scratching and squeezing and reaching up to nip the tender, healing exit wound near the top of Sebastian's shoulder.

Sebastian garbles a string of moans and whimpers, feeling overwhelmed and loving it.

Moriarty leans close as he can to the large man's ear. Into it he hisses, “There had best be no more little tantrums from you. I _missed_ you today.” 

Sebastian's eyes pop wide open and the words send lightning straight to his cock.

Moriarty smirks as the blond flinches. “Eager boy.” The brunet reaches down and grips Sebastian's wet, straining cock.

“I'll blow in two seconds,” the bodyguard warns frantically.

Moriarty licks Sebastian's ear. “Scream for me when you do.”

The blond shivers deeply. He drops his forehead and submits to the fast, firm touch, whimpering helplessly.

He cums with a scream, just like he promised.

Moriarty relishes the noise then nips Sebastian's shoulder, his hips still bucking sharply. “Splendid boy,” the brunet praises in a growl.

Sebastian groans. “Please. Paint me. Cum for me, boss.”

Moriarty's rhythm falters and he almost cums right there. He takes a deep breath, holds his teeth down against Sebastian's shoulder for a minute, then concentrates very carefully on his thrusts.

He pulls out quickly and shudders as he spurts again and again over Sebastian's beautiful, caned rear.

Sebastian quivers at the surprisingly numerous jets of warm pleasure against his delicate skin and smiles proudly.

He's still in a good mood the next morning, crawling over to his brunet's side when he notices Moriarty is already awake and typing away diligently on the laptop.

Sebastian makes his blue eyes big and protrudes his bitten bottom lip. “My arse is killing me.” 

Moriarty snorts unsympathetically and reaches out a hand to pet Sebastian's hair. “My poor precious princess.” 

The bodyguard huffs softly and butts his employer's hand mildly. “You don't have to be so sarky.” 

Moriarty glances away from the screen with repressed, wicked amusement. “Really? And there I thought you wanted me to kiss it better.” 

Sebastian regards the smaller man suspiciously, wondering whether the offer is good. “...You'd bite me, you sadistic fuck.” 

Moriarty withdraws his hand playfully. “And there I thought you liked me. Tch.” 

Sebastian pulls the small hand back to his scalp. “I _do_ like-” 

He breaks off and edges away.

Startled, Moriarty pushes away the computer and regards the blond intelligently. “What's the matter?” 

Sebastian shakes his head slowly. “Nothing.” 

His employer raises a brow warningly. “I dislike it when you lie to me, darling.” 

“...” Sebastian stares at him for a moment but won't talk. After a beat he looks away.

Moriarty grabs the larger man's jaw. “What the fuck, _Sebastian_?” he demands.

The blond stays quiet.

Moriarty casts him an unimpressed look. “Fine, keep your secrets.” He pulls his laptop back over, opens it and glares at the screen without typing.

Sebastian rubs his face and curls up on his side, facing away. He frowns as his thoughts torment him.

“Are you going to work today?” the blond asks eventually, trying to breach the fresh gulf.

“Like I can leave you to your own devices?” Moriarty sneers.

Sebastian drops into silence again.

“Sebastian.” 

The blond looks around with wary, loyal eyes. “Yeah, boss?” 

Moriarty runs his gaze over the bodyguard critically. “You're not quite ready for work yet, but I'd say you were strong enough for other things, wouldn't you?” 

Sebastian blinks and leans up carefully. “Like what?”

Moriarty is already dressed, even though Sebastian has barely risen. The brunet drops his hands to his belt, unbuckling it and sliding it through his belt loops swiftly.

He hands it to Sebastian. “Show me who's boss, Tiger.”

Sebastian stares at the strip of leather searching for the trap. “...You are?”

Moriarty removes his tie pointedly. “Suit's off.”

Sebastian growls and darts forward, pressing sharp kisses into the brunet's jaw as he strips away the expensive tailoring.

“Get on all fours,” Sebastian orders.

Moriarty gives him a brief smile and obeys the command almost instantly.

Sebastian takes a deep breath and admires both the action and the view.

He spanks Moriarty's offered bottom fondly, grinning at the pleased hisses. He suddenly frowns and swats much harsher, making Moriarty wince loudly.

“Are you mine?” Sebastian demands.

Moriarty sits up on his heels, his changing expression hidden by his turned back. “What do you think?” he sarks.

A stripe of leather crosses his vision a moment later. Sebastian chokes him with moderate force. “I don't _know_ ,” he complains.

Moriarty splutters and gasps, reaching for the belt as Sebastian raises him off of the mattress slightly. “I...”

Sebastian drops him enough to speak.

Moriarty drinks in air for a moment then looks at his hands. Healed of the burns. “Can't you tell?”

Sebastian rips away the belt and cracks it down harshly, catching the side of his employer's face. “ _I don't fucking know_!”

Moriarty clutches the scarlet mark on his face and gives Sebastian a warning look. “Have you not learned your lesson about tantrums, pet?”

“I'm not your fucking pet,” Sebastian argues softly.

“Sebastian, pets who bite their owners like you do get put down,” his employer states. It sounds less like a threat than a reassurance.

Sebastian takes a breath.

“Calm?” Moriarty asks.

Sebastian seems in a better mood but Moriarty frowns and leans up on his thighs, petting the blond's hair.

Sebastian smiles weakly, leaning in as though in need of reassurance.

“...Are you still curious about my name?” Moriarty asks slowly.

Sebastian blinks stupidly. “...What? _Yes_.”

The brunet eyes the bigger man intently. Eventually he admits, “It's Jim. Of course if you ever call me that in earshot of anyone else you know I'll have to destroy you.” 

The horrible feeling in Sebastian's gut recedes. He sits stunned, smiling. “I know. Does this mean you..?” 

Moriarty takes his hand away. “Don't get cocky, moron.” 

The blond presses a kiss on Moriarty's tender neck. “You know fine well my name's Sebastian, Jim.”

“Mad idiot,” his employer mutters.

Sebastian smiles. “Perfect psychopath.”


End file.
